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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


SPECIMENS; 


LEISURE    HOURS    POETICALLY  EMPLOYED   ON 
VARIOUS    SUBJECTS; 

MORAL,   POLITICAL    &   RELIGIOUS, 


"  Quid  autem  tenure  nocebit?" 


BY  JOSIAH  SHIPPEY,  A.  B. 


WITH    NOTES    CRITICAL    AND    EXPLANATORY ; 

Also,  a.  brief  History  of  the  Life  of  the  Author,  from  the  year  1778  to  the 
year  1841 ;  to  which  is  added  a  Synopsis  of  all  the  parts  of  Learning. 

BY  SAMUEL  JOHNSON,  D.  D. 

President  of  King's,  iww  Columbia,  College,  New-York. 


NEW-YORK: 

PRINTED    BY    JOSEPH    B.    ALLEE, 

104  Bcckman-street. 

1841. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1841,  by 

JOSIAH    SHIPPEY,   A.   B. 
In  the1  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New -York. 


Ps 


REVIEW,  BY  THE  REV.  JAMES  FLOY. 

I  have  read  Mr.  Josiah  Shippey's  Specimens,  together  with  the  Nofet, 
and  a  sketch  of  his  life. 

Of  the  Specimens,  not  being  a  Poet  myself,  I  do  not  give  an  opinion. 
So  far  as  I  have  examined  the  Prose,  I  find  nothing  objectionable  either  in 
matter  or  style. 

JAMES  FLOY, 
Pastor  3d  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 

Brooklyn,  L.  I. 
Brooklyn,  I3lh  July,  1840. 

It  is  but  honest  to  state  to  a  "  confiding  public,"  that  several  of  the 
Notes  were  written  subsequently  to  the  date  of  the  above  review — such  as 
the  Notes  on  "Raritan  Landing,'1  "Justice  and  Mercy,"  "on  my  Life," 
and  on  the  "  Analecta."  Should  there,  then,  be  found  any  thing  objectiona 
ble  either  in  the  matter  or  style  of  these ;  no  blame  must  be  attached  to  the 
reviewer  for  them;  but  the  responsibility  must  rest,  indisputably,  upon 

THE  AUTHOR. 


;{j.V;;*ti  .aK'.«,SvJ\    e'^',if<|ii 


CONTE  NTS. 


.  . 

Quantum  Meruit,        ....           >:ec   .  13 

Echo,                    .               .                „.-!•;.       .-•;*  rr       ;..  ,-K-'  19 

The  Passions,              ....                ,  ib. 

An  Apothegm  Versified,      ....  20 

Imagination  and  Fancy,               .                ...              t*Rh!  ib- 

A  Poetical  Translation,         .                .                .                .,,fh  ib. 

Another,                       .               ...             .    .                .                fi    !  ib. 

Ill  Manners,           .                .             .•;»-.-.\,           .            !*<.  #'•;.;  21 

Essay  on  Dependence,                .              -i.!'?       tv»- •<       i-u*<ni  22 

The  World,                         .                .               .*.:-.,•»  II >,-./; '4  23 

Action,                        •.                .                .                .                .  ib. 

Direction  to  the  Precentor,                 ...  ib. 

Criminal  Law,              .                 .            ;•(  V             ...    ;             .     -  24 

My  first  Wife,                       .            i-*  <r         ij.^,       r.f,S  L.  ib- 

Epitaph,                       .                .                .                .             .  1V.  25 

Physiognomy,  or  Facial  Skill,              .           T[-B'  ,.            .  ib. 
An  Important  Quere,                   .                .        .»     -                .26 

The  Clerk's  Advertisement,             ,:  >    •!       .->.:        n>iii.Vt  *"'• 

Acrostic,                      .                .            C '»   !        '!o«\  c       ••-•In  ib. 

Jovi  Quam  Homini  Fidere  Prsestat,                   .           ,  .L*  .*  27 

Cursory  thoughts  on  Wedlock,              •    V -;        i.  j           u;-»d  ^. 

Epitaph  on  a  converted  Butcher,                    ••;:•'_!        •'••!,  28 

The  Honest  Lawyer,               ,.v:»'i!i        •>.,»<.;•        :-I  T-*jr             •  ^. 

Stat  nominus  umbra,                         -*             :».'.;       J!''WJT  33 

Another,                      .                .            j  .i;  •)       f  ^.y,           .  ib. 

Youth  and  Old  Age,            ..                .                .            «,>:-,-.  & 

The  American  Museum,             .            ;  u    •            •            '?•,«,;  34 

Disappointed  in  Love,        ,  •         !  >:           .  ',    ~        ,.,.,.  .'.  ib. 

Epitaph  on  a  Hard  Drinker,    .-\  •-,•,           .            ••,'»'•:          .-•;'•  35 

What  you  Please,            -  .Jtw            .             ;,-«j,-       »»-.,«;. :•!•  36 

An  Ode  on  Free  Masonry,         .           !V~/-Y.'       '!.»ri       ',;  *i  ib. 


riii  CONTENTS. 

The  Headless  Spectre,  or  the  Solemn  Warning,  £*  ..  37 
Fas  est  ab  hoste  doceri,  .  .  .  .41 
New- York,  .  .'  ;  t  ib. 
A  Law  Maxim  Versified,  .  "^  <  43 
Rogues  falling  out,  .  •  *  •  •  ib- 
Discord,  .  .  ,  .  .  ib. 
Greater  and  Lesser  Things,  — •  •.—  .  .  44 
Not  at  Home,  .  .  •  •  .  ib. 
The  Correct  Lawyer,  ....  ib. 
Tears  soon  dry  up,  k.  .  45 
Friendly  termination  of  a  Dispute,  .  .  ib. 
An  Epitaph,  .  .  .  :i ••  *n,*i  ib 
Another,  .  .  -.  .'..  hi-  I  -.  .-  ib. 
An  Elegy,  .  .  .  sl%  \  r«i* .-.?  46 
An  Epitaph,  .  .  .  .  .  -.;  '  47 
Another,  .  .  .  .  .  ib. 
On  the  death  of  a  Religious  Lady,  ...  48 
Epitaph  on  a  Departed  Wife,  .  .  ib. 
Fortune's  Two  Hands,  .  .  .  ib. 
Oratory,  .  .  .  .49 
The  Fire  Pipe,  .  .  wr,.  .  50 
My  second  Wife,  or  early  Courtship,  .  .  .53 
My  second  Courtship  of  mj  present  Wife,  .  .  54 
Puffing,  .  .  .  .  .55 
The  News  Carrier's  Address,  .  i'v  .  .  56 
Fate,  ....  .62 
A  Grand  National  Song  for  the  Fourth  of  July,  1814,  .  ib. 
A  bird's-eye  view  of  our  late  Naval  Victories,  1814,  .  65 
A  Nation's  Groans,  .  ' -':.  -.  .  -~l  .••  68 
Distich — for  one  of  the  Coffins  or  Boxes  at  the  burial  of  the  Re 
volutionary  Bones  on  Long  Island,  A.  D.,  1808.  •<-  .?,  ib. 
America's  few  yards  of  Striped  Bunting,  .  •-••.!»•  ib. 
The  Disappointment,  or  Protege  vs.  Patron,  BI  *.•  n  •  69 
To  Major  General  Peter  B.  Porter,  .  .  72 
Raritan  Landing,  .  .  ."»':!  i>«-.  ;«,  73 
The  standing  Color  of  the  Day,  aa$  '  ±  ir  79 
We  are  not  reprobated  while  the  Holy  Spirit  strives  with  us,  ib. 
The  Orphan's  address  to  the  Patrons,  and  Trustees  of  a  certain 
Religious  Institution,  for  the  education  of  poor  Children, 
in  the  City  of  New-York.  vvj  .  :-..?<  80 
Apothegms,  or  remarkable  sayings,  ^  »  83 


•     '  ..*• 

CONTENTS.  7 

Piety  in  appearance  only,  .  .  .  .83 

Address  to  the  Scholars  of  a  certain  School  on  the  death  of  one  of 

their  companions,  Hm  I3.  '.•*. ..-  tn-tjl~  ib. 
Re-union  of  Soul  and  Body  in  a  future  state,  .  y*-;*  84 
Faith,  .  '  £3-  .^-.i-  .  85 
Final  impenitence,  and  the  call  to  drink  the  Waters  of  Life,  ib. 
Worshippers  worshipping  on  their  knees  on  the'steps  of  the  Ca 
thedral,-  .  .  .  tn  fa  r-o  86 
No  Salvation  without  Repentance,  tt'j  ii  ioW  ':<  ib. 
The  Black  Mart's  Epitaph,  .  .  .  ; ,  *  ib. 
The  Martyr's  Crown,  .  .  .  '  j-f-.".  ;  ib. 
Video  Meliora  Proboque  ;  deteriora  sequor,  •',,..•  L  •  88 
Omnis  Indiae  opes  superat  inens  conscia  recti,  .  ib. 
The  proper  use  of  Learning,  f-3-'  '•'''•'•"•I.  •  'D< 
The  Old  Veteran,  .  .  ;H  e»!.  n>  ..a  89 
Future  Prospects,  .  .  .  ib. 
The  Last  Shade,  .  .  .  .;lJBii  ib. 
Repent,  .  .  .  ;:.,*»*.  .  ib. 
Temptation,  .  .  ,^i-  *  :*  .*  90 
Repentance,  .  .  .  .  .  ib. 
The  Human  Soul,  ....  91 
Man,  a  thinking  being,  .  .  IP  .-:;;!•  in  ,.\i  ib. 
The  power  of  Jehovah,  .  .  .  ,:••"-.  ib. 
The  Grave,  Heaven  and  Hell,  .  ^r  .  ib. 
Divine  Wrath,  .  .  .  92 
Mammom  profitably  disposed  of,  .  •  .  *u  . -«r;-.  93 
Temperance,  ....  ib. 
The  Doctrines  and  Precepts  of  the  Gospel,  ':':/**  .•;•.§.•},;.•  94 
The  Saviour  and  his  Bride,  the  Church,  .  .  ib. 
Dying  in  Sin,  .  .  ^  _  .  .  .  t  ;-  ib. 
Death  will  not  wait  our  wishes,  VjV  :'  .  •  ib' 
Light  and  Darkness,  .  .  .  VV«JK;  95 
Epitaph,  .  ib. 
Columbia  College,  .  .  .  .  ib. 
Generals  in  sermons,  .  .  .  t\'-.'l  99 
To  accompany  the  presentation  of  a  Souvenir  sent  to  a  young 

lady  as  New  Year's  present.                              .                 .  ib. 

Epitaph  for  Mr.  Starges,                      .               •..  '         •  ,,*•-  100 

The  Lord's  Prayer  versified,                        .            i  >;.  --j        y  •  -.  ib. 

A  Scriptural  Acrostic,               •    •   beJ                •                 •  *h- 

The  Substitute,  or  the  Cordwainer  cured  of  drunkenness  301 


x  CONTENTS. 

Glory,  .  2.  .  .  j*-.-,  199 
We  must  not  do  evil  that  good  may  come  therefrom,  ib. 
Prayers  preferred  in  wrath  will  not  be  answered,  •  ib. 
Life  is  uncertain,  ,'iif'~-  ':•'!•«;  n  -  i  ^»*  •  1"J< 
The  Good  Man's  Death,  .  .110 
The  end  of  Time  and  beginning  of  Eternity,  .  »..i-  ib. 
Profane  Swearing,  -.  iir;!  '>•>'•"*]•  ^*~-.  •  HI 
Religion,  always  the  same,  .  •  : «.  11  ib. 
The  lore  of  Money  is  the  root  of  all  Evil,  •  »b. 
Justice  and  Mercy,  .  •  .'•-.' *il  :•-••>. 
Connubial  Happiness,  .  .«r  '••"*> 
Suavitor  in  modo,  sed  fortiter  in  re,  -v»tM*  J  •-,'.  114 
Moderation,  .  .'*-;.'  j-> •»  :»••  .v-..--j  •-.  »;  115 
Christ  knocking  at  the  heart,  .  .-..""•«  -^  •  ib. 
Reflections,  on  scenes  passed  through  at  "threescore  and  up 
wards,"  .  .  •  ..  „  •  117 
The  Scholiad,  .  .  •  >b»i  120 
The  New- York  Arsenal,  •  122 
The  Shipwreck,  .  .  123 
Prayer,  .  .  .  .  .124 
Reform,  .  .  .  •  •  125 
The  Day  of  Judgment,  .  ,:.:.;.  •  126 
Disjecta  membra  poets  .  .  A>.V;  .  128 
A  wounded  spirit,  .  •»>>  .  •  129 
False  appearances,  .  *  •  ,ii/a  ib. 
Reflection,  .  .  Ui.  ,  ;i»f  .  ib. 
A  caution,  .....  130 
The  old  and  new  man,  *.'•*-  *«>.;;  .  '.-:*&§  ib. 
Decision,  .  .  .'*4ci  L '"-JL: :  u  ..  •'.  ib. 
Dandyism,  •  .  . .  .  [?.  t:l ;.  ib. 
Sprighta,  »»  .  .  .  *  to  •  ib. 
Bombast,  .  .  .  .  b«i  131 
Sincerity,  .....  ib. 
Politics,  ....  .-»yj!  .  ib. 
Cold  weather,  x  .  ~"  .  .  ^  •.•••t^  132 
Misspent  time,  <  ;.  -  s-;a^"  /£',+!<*  ;  -*il  '  qnv:  ib. 
Parents  and  children,  .,  -..  ...  ,  .  ib. 
Youth,  -.  '  .  .  *."'.  .  .  ib. 
Patience  under  suffering,  .  .  ;^.^.  -  133 
Potential  reasons  assigned,  »  •  «  •  •  -ib. 
Concluding  a  piece,  -^^'''  .  •  -.  .  ib. 


.       CONTENTS.  xi 

Truth,          .               .               .               .               .  .134 

Politeness,             .....  ib. 

A  Sonnet,                       »-••        y.                .  .          ib. 

The  whole  duty  of  man,                        .                .                .  135 
Praying  will  make  us  leave  off  sinning,  or,  sinning  will  make  us 

leave  off  praying,                               .                .  .          ib. 

On  passing  the  one  arched  bridge  over  the  Schuylkill,  Pa.  ib- 

An  Address,                     .*  V ...                .                .  136 

Do  Good,         .                             .                .                .  .139 

Ridicule  not  the  test  of  Truth,              ...  ib. 

Wit  and  Judgment,                       .                .               .  ib. 

Synthesis  and  Analysis,                         ...  ib. 

Idlers,                           .                .                .               .  ib. 

The  human  heart,                  ....  140 

Motive  and  Action,                        .                .              * .  ib* 

Betting  or  Wagering,            ....  141 

Fiat  Justitia  Ruat  Coelum,            .                .             ^«'  .    ,      ib. 

Vox  et  praeterea  nihil,                             .                .             ..-.  ib. 

On  the  prospect  of  returning  to  New- York,  aftei  the  war  in  1815.    142 

The  Waster,  or  Thief  in  the  Candle,         .               .   *       '\  ".  ib. 

The  sword  and  cane,             ....  ib« 

Portraits  without  wigs,                      .                             .  ib. 

The  Christian's  hope,            .               *, .  .           .               .  ib- 

Kindness,                       .            •«".*•              •                •  '•        1^3 

The  World's  Epitaph,        '.    .                .                .                .  ib. 

The  old  man's  reflection  on  a  child's  treading  upon  his  toes,  ib. 

A  National  Toast,                          .     •                            ,  .          ib. 

Queen  Victoria  and  her  marriage  with  Prince  Albert,  144 

Inscribed  in  an  annual  presented  to  Miss  S4Jf##»                •  145 

Married  harmony,                          .                .                .  I    ib. 

A  brief  history  of  the  life  of  the  Author,              .              .  147 


y< 


•    ',    '    -/     f  p,    -,  -,;    -;l 

QUANTUM    MERUIT, 


PRELIMINARY   THOUGHTS  OS    THE  PROPRIETY  OF  PUBLISHING  A  BOOK, 
OR   OF   ENGAGING   IN    SOME    OTHER   PURSUIT. 


Why  sitt'st  thou  pond'ring  there  ?  string  up  thy  nerves  ! 
And  give  the  subject  all  that  it  deserves  ! 


Day's  luminary  gone,  the  twilight  pass'd, 

The  sombre  shades  of  night  come  thick'ning  fast ; 

The  world  upturn'd  the  Queen  of  night  displays, 

Her  face  resplendent  with  reflected  rays; 

Her  bright  attendant  sparkling  by  her  side, 

In  all  the  radiance  of  an  ev'ning  bride. 

Yet  she  alone,  cannot  her  gaze  confine, 

More  bright  familiars  clust'ring  round  her  shine  ; 

And  countless  gems  remote,  yet  twinkling  bright, 

On  mortals'  optics  fling  a  feebler  light; 

And  halos,  mock-suns,  meteors,  comets  glance 

Throughout  the  vast  unlimited  expanse. 

Now  Contemplation  leaves  her  house  of  clay, 

And  wings  beyond  this  vale  of  wo  her  way ; 

Fast  by  Heav'ns  Queen  she  raptur'd  sits,  and  there 

Builds  specious  castles  in  the  ambient  air. 

Scheme  after  scheme  employs  her  teeming  brain, 

Some  are  for  glory  meant,  and  some  for  gain  ; 

And  so  she  weaves,  and  weaves  her  airy  net — 

She'll  form  a  chariot  that  will  ne'er  upset. 

Now,  next  hydraulics  flit  across  her  mind, 

She  mimic  rain  will  make  by  pow'r  confin'd 

With  volume  large,  and  then  so  strong,  no  doubt 

'Twill  put  the  fiercest  spreading  fire  out. 


14 

Anon,  she  passes  to  the  watery  deep, 

And  there  expects  a  copious  crop  to  reap ; 

A  boat  she'll  form  that  parts  on  either  side, 

Which  wind  and  waves  may  both  alike  deride ; 

A  boat — that  will  all  other  boats  excel, 

And  e'en  from  Greathead's  boat  bear  off  the  belle. 

Then  chemicals,  much  wanted  and  much  priz'd, 

From  which  vast  fortunes  have  been  realized  : 

But  their  hard  names,  and  subtile  gases  too, 

Present  a  sight  appalling  to  her  view. 

She  turns  her  face  in  search  of  other  things, 

And  they  fly  off  on  disappointment's  wings. 

A  pause  ensues — and  shall  she  still  remain 

Fix'd  where  she  is,  or  her  old  home  regain  ? 

The  last  appears  the  safest  of  the  twain — 

Still — her  main  object  she  would  first  attain. 

Nor  should  that  object  show  her  time  misspent, 

But  something  worthy  of  her  powers  present. 

To  arts  mechanic  she  in  vain  may  fly, 

On  them  let  minds  mechanical  rely; 

Let  them  for  her  in  their  own  way  take  pains, 

While  she  for  them  will  labor  with  her  brains. 

Heav'n  on  her  soul  impress'd  this  kindly  seal, 

Far  less  for  matter  than  for  mind  to  feel. 

To  empty  schemes  she  bids  a  long — good-by, 

For  she's  resolv'd  an—Authorship — to  try! 

An  Author  ? — what, — and  if  a  Book  one  makes  ! — 

Why — pains  and  labor  on  himself  he  takes. 

And  then  for  all  his  toil — what  recompense  ? 

He  may  please  one,  to  thousands  give  offence. 

Oh  prospect  cheerless  to  a  poet's  mind  ! 

Should  friends  desert,  should  all  men  prove  unkind — 

If  he  despair,  and  but  his  pen  withhold, 

How  can  the  story  of  his  life  be  told? 

Naught  would  be  seen  to  praise  or  to  condemn, 

And  then  his  rhymes — what  would  become  of  them  ? 

Let  them  be  burn'd  nor  to  mankind  be  shown, 

He'd  quit  this  world  unnotic'd  and  unknown. 

But  Knowledge  speaks  in  accents  soothing,  kind, 


15 

"  Be  active  and  be  useful  to  mankind. 
Who  says  mankind  will  not  appreciate 
Your  well-meant  efforts,  but  will  prove  ingrate  ? 
What  though  no  shining  talent  you  possess, 
Should  then  one  useful  be  esteem'4  the  less  ? 
Then  think  not  thou  art  by  thy  friends  forsook, 
But  undismay'd  go  on  and  print  thy  book. 
Why  shouldst  thou  be  to  cravent  fear  a  slave  ? 
Success  attends  the  fearless  and  the  brave. 
For,  know,, the  mind  for  noble  actions  form'd, 
When  by  a  gen'rous  thirst  for  knowledge  warm'd 
Strives  to  surmount  all  danger,  toil  and  pain, 
The  much  desir'd  the  glorious  prize  to  gain." 


PREFACE. 


Though  there  are  some  minutiae  in  politeness, 

The  which  to  find  out  needs  not  much  adroitness, 

Yet  did  the  same  in  every  age  exist, 

In  which  ev'n  we  think  proper  to  persist : 

The  doing  which  on  no  man  should  bear  hard  on, 

Neglect  of  which  no  well  bred  man  will  pardon. 

These  to  pass  o'er  unnotic'd  and  neglected  ; 

When  by  each  one  they're  look'd  for  and  expected, 

No  matter  by  what  cause  impell'd  or  driven, 

Th'  offence  will  seldom  ever  be  forgiven. 

That  is,  for  instance,  take  one  friend  or  more, 
Into  a  comp'ny  they'd  ne'er  seen  before ; 
For  this  intrusion  how  will  it  excuse  'em  ? 
The  thing  is  plain — why  you  must  introduce  'em. 
But  may  not  this  to  other  things  refer?. 
Truly — unto  a  Preface — my  dear  Sir. 
Such  is  its  use,  nobody  sure  can  doubt  it, 
That  no  new  Book  should  ever  be  without  it. 
Admit  it  so — then,  without  more  debate, 
At  large  our  Author  will  go  on  to  state  ; 
Why  he  should  at  his  time  of  life  conclude, 
His  Book  upon  the  Public  to  intrude, 
Imprimis,  then,  he  thinks  a  better  chance, 
May  not  occur  his  wishes  to  advance  ; 
Wishes  he's  cherish'd  from  an  early  day, 
If  kindly,  Providence  would  clear  his  way, 
That  of  his  life  prolong'd  from  year  to  year, 
Some  fruit  of  goodness  might  at  last  appear; 
His  friends  not  only,  but  mankind  to  show, 
His  hours  not  idly  wasted  here  below, 
By  day  not  merely,  but  night  after  night ; 
None  but  himself  to  profit  and  delight, 
As  by  this  Legacy,  yet  not  alone  ; 
He  would  for  some  of  his  past  sins  atone. 
Solely  by  words  he  cannot,  but  by  deed  ' 

B** 


IS  PREFACE. 

"  Justice  must  generosity  precede." 

Now  to  thee,  gentle  Reader,  be  it  known, 

That,  though  no  House  or  Land  he  calls  his  own ; 

Yet  if  his  work,  though  somewhat  small  of  size, 

A  thinking,  liberal  public  patronize ; 

He  hopes  the  world  will  shortly  see  and  know, 

The  Author  lives,  and  yet  no  man  to  owe  ! 

Next  in  a  different  light  his  Book  he  views, 

And  through  life's  vista  the  fond  thought  pursues  : 

That  since  he  wrote  it  with  a  mind  sincere, 

Some  following  good  may  in  its  time  appear. 

Some  erring  one  be  turn'd  from  wrong  to  right, 

And  sins  besetting  be  forsaken  quite. 

His  "Specimens"  he's  ta'en  from  out  his  store 

Of  pieces  written,  most  in  times  of  yore, 

Which  will  be  readily  discern'd,  by  you, 

Before,  kind  Reader,  you  have  read  them  through. 

All  pieces  pers'nal,  caustic  and  severe, 

He  would  not  let  them  in  his  book  appear. 

But  to  the  flames  will  them  commit,  each  one, 

For  the  sad  mischief,  in  past  years,  they've  done. 

His  Book  he  views  before  the  public  spread, 

By  young  and  old,  by  learn'd  and  unleam'd  read ; 

And  shall  he  wonder  or  be  aught  surpris'd, 

If  oft'ner  wrong  than  right  'tis  criticis'd  ? 

But  should  some  critic  of  the  "  genuine  stamp," 

O'er  his  fair  prospects  cast  a  "  chilling  damp," 

If  he  his  sentence  from  Synopsis  drew, 

He'll  bow  submissive,  and  he'll  thank  him  too. 

That  there  are  faults  he's  vastly  well  aware, 

Name  them  ye  friends  that  he  may  them  repair, 

Tis  easy  prov'd,  if  it  were  worth  th'  attempt, 

No  man  from  error's  perfectly  exempt, 

Prove  one  man  perfect  whensoe'er  you  can — 

Behold  an  Angel !  he's  no  longer  man. 

Go  then,  thou  Book,  and  may  kind  Heaven  will 

That  thou  may'st  do  some  good,  but  cause  no  ill. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


• 


SPECIMENS. 


Quere.    What  is  Po-e-try  ? 
Echo.         .         .         try. 


Echo,  if  right  I  understand, 

She  queries  not,  but  gives  command. 

Lady,  I  thank  thee — I'll  obey, 

And  turn  my  face  another  way. 

Now  to  some  foreign  source  I'll  seek, 

The  Latin  ?  first,  I'll  try  the  Greek ; 

In  haste  the  Lexicon  I  take, 

And  find — POIEO — English — make. 

As  how,  I  pray,  and  from  what  stuff? 

Why  language,  truly — sure  enough ! 

Next  my  consid'ring  cap  I'll  try, 

My  Muse,  I  mean — I  pardon  cry. 

From  MOUSA,  muse — thence  music  springs, 

And  in  this  tongue  the  Poet  sings  ; 

So  ev'ry  language  clearly  shows, 

'Tis  nothing  else  than  measur'd  prose. 

What  says  my  Muse,  or  wrong  or  right, 

As  clear  as  day,  or  dark  as  night  ? 

If  the  appeal  to  me  you  make, 

This  short  conclusive  answer  take  ; 

Howe'er  his  theme  the  Poet  fashions, 

He  speaks  "the  language  of  the  passions," 


THE  PASSIONS. 


Passions  are  those  sensations  of  the  soul, 
Which  pain  or  pleasure  in  their  turns  control, 


20  A  POETICAL  TRANSLATION. 

AN    APOTHEGM    VERSIFIED. 

Each  youthful  excess  is  a  draft  on  age, 
Which  ev'ry  constitution  will  engage 
To  pay  with  int'rest  at  a  lib'ral  rate, 
Some  forty,  fifty,  sixty  years  from  date. 


IMAGINATION    AND    FANCY. 

Imagination  claims  the  Sun, 
The  Moon  is  Fancy's  right ; 

Imagination  works  by  day, 
While  Fancy  works  by  night. 


A  POETICAL  TRANSLATION   OF   THE   FOLLOWING   LATIN 
SENTENCE. 

"  Dum  Bruti  efligiem,  Sculptor  de  marmore 
Ducit;  in  mentem  sceleris  venit  et  abstinuit." 

While  Brutus's  bust  in  the  white  marble  grows, 
See  the  Sculptor's  amaz'd,  quite  motionless  stands ; 

As  Brutus's  crime  through  his  memory  flows, 
His  chisel  and  mallet  drop  out  of  his  hands. 

ANOTHER. 

Hear  while  Brutus's  bust  in  the  marble  grows, 
The  Sculptor  pronounce  as  he  musingly  stands ; 

Your  bust,  while  your  crime  through  my  mem'ry  flows, 
No  finish  shall  ever  receive  at  my  hands. 


ILL  MANNERS.  21 

ILL  MANNERS,    OR    THE  DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  ADDITION 
AND   IMPROVEMENT   EXPLAINED. 

Though  addition  is  one  thing,  improvement  another, 

Yet  some  people  take  them  for  sister  and  brother ; 

But  if  in  appearance  so  close  they're  allied, 

You  may  find  where  they  differ  when  wrongly  appli'd. 

Our  position,  the  story  we  mean  to  relate, 

Will  suffice  to  confirm  and  besides  illustrate. 

But  here  let  us  premise,  that  the  person  wetknew, 

Who  first  told  us  the  tale,  so  we  think  the  tale  true. 

One  day  an  old  Cit  with  a  friend  went  to  dine, 

At  the  house  kept  by  Bardin,  'twas  call'd  the  Tontine. 

So  now  see  them  seated  conversing  together, 

But  we  cannot  tell  which,  of  the  wind  or  the  weather. 

Though  here  we'll  remark,  till  we  further  proceed, 

Few  Hotels  like  this  from  ill  manners  are  freed ; 

And  sure  'tis  ill  manners,  though  self-conceit  flatters, 

To  pry  into  other  folks'  bus'ness  and  matters, 

But  their  converse  to  us,  though  of  little  import, 

Yet  'twas  sorely  disturb'd,  interrupted  in  short, 

By  a  Dandy  who  while,  he  his  knife  and  fork  play'd, 

Most  attentively  listen'd  to  all  the  Cit  said, 

And  show'd  by  his  visage,  his  gestures  and  action, 

That  he  noted  it  all,  aye,  e'en  to  a  fraction. 

Though  this  act  of  the  Dandy  our  Cit  sore  annoy'd, 

Yet  he  thought  in  his  mind,  "I'll  a  quarrel  avoid. 

Now  the  dessert  is  come,  vi-ce  solids  discuss'd, 

A  traverse  I'll  work,  which  will  rid  me,  I  trust, 

Of  this  bore  of  a  Dandy  with  his  scrutiny  ; 

So  pleasing  to  him  but  distressing  to  me." 

So  while  each  one  was  eating  his  pudding* amain, 

The  Cit  to  his  friend  rais'd  his  voice,  in  such  strain, 

As  to  stop  all  the  eaters,  and  make  each  one  hear, 

"Know'st,  to  pudding  how  great  an  addition  is  beer  ?" 

Now  the  Cit,  though  'twas  odd,  found  his  quere  not  lost. 

It  the  Dandy  absorb'd,  so  it  did  to  his  cost. 

While  the  eaters  were  making  the  best  of  their  time, 

He  mus'd  on  the  subject,  he  thought  it  sublime ! 


22  ESSAY  ON  DEPENDENCE. 

u  To  give  it  a  trial,  I  don't  see  I  need  fear." 
So  he  call'd  to  the  waiter — "  waiter  bring  me  some  beer." 
Soon  the  waiter  return'd,  and  though  strange  to  relate, 
Yet  he  took  up  the  beer  and  pour'd  some  on  his  plate. 
Then  a  piece  of  his  pudding  he  sopp'd  in  his  beer, 
And  to  swallow  it  tri'd,  and  made  faces  most  queer, 
But  it  would  not  go  down — 'twas  as  stubborn  as  fate, — 
He  ejected  the  piece,  and  it  fell  on  his  plate. 
Now  the  eaters  had  eagerly  watch'd  the  event, 
And  just  at  that  moment  all  with  hearty  consent, 
A  snickering  set  up,  to  the  end  of  the  room, 
Which  the  poor  Dandy  flung  into  sullenest  gloom. 
He  queri'd  the  Cit,  without  asking  permission, 
Didn't  you  say  that  to  pudding  beer  was  an  addition  ? 
"I  did" — the  Cit  answer'd,  and  tho'  some  folks  may  stare, 
"  That  'twas  any  Improvement,  I  did  not  declare." 
To  the  bottom  the  eaters  quick  see  the  whole  thing, 
And  with  laughs  and  loud  huzzas  they  make  the  room 

ring. 

The  Dandy  astounded,  o'erwhelm'd  in  afright, 
Dropp'd  his  knife  and  his  fork,  and  was  soon  out  of  sight. 
So  the  Cit  thus  reliev'd,  pass'd  the  rest  of  his  stay, 
With  his  friend peac1  ably,  till  they  both  went  their  way. 


ESSAY    ON    DEPENDENCE. 

'Tis  long  experience  shows  the  mighty  host, 
Of  those  who  proudly  Independence  boast ; 
That  men  on  men  dependent  still  remain, 
And  all  are  links  of  the  one  common  chain. 
Of  this  world's  wealth  tho'  some  great  store  posses: 
Still  something's  wanting  to  their  happiness  ; 
This  one  or  that  may  have  the  power  to  grant, 
What  most  they  wish  for,  or  what  most  they  want. 
If  our  own  int'rest  to  promote  we  strive, 
We  cause,  perhaps,  another  ones'  to  thrive ; 
For  while  we're  destined  in  this  world  to  stay> 


DIRECTION  TO  THE  PRECENTOR  23 

Apparent  'tis,  clear  as  the  face  of  day, 
All  in  a  greater  or  a  less  degree, 
On  some  or  other  live  dependently. 
For  rich  and  poor  alternate  join  to  show, 
From  mutual  helps,  ease,  pleasure,  profit  flow. 
Such  is  Dependence,  such  its  daily  use, 
We  all  our  comforts  from  this  source  deduce. 
But  there's  dependence  of  a  nobler  kind, 
For  all  depending  on  the  Eternal  mind. 


THE    WORLD. 


Out  on  the  world — it  is  a  tricking  elf, 

And  cares  for  no  one  but  its  own  sweet  self. 


ACTION. 

'Tis  a  shocking  affair, 
Between  hope  and  despair, 

To  rest ; 

Then  the  plan  to  pursue, 
That  advises — to  do, 

Is  best. 


DIRECTION    TO    THE    PRECENTOR. 

Don't  set  the  tune  too  high, 
Don't  set  the  tune  too  low ; 

Don't  sing  the  words  too  fast, 
Don't  sing  the  words  too  slow. 

And  last  of*  all,  O,  wo  of  woes  ! 

Don't  sing  a  tune  that  no  one  knows. 

*  Air  or  Song. 


24  MY  FIRST  WIFE. 

CRIMINAL    LAW. 

And  shall  the  Justice  of  our  country  sleep, 

Nor  from  new  crimes  old  rogues  and  felons  keep  ? 

Nay — but  when  tri'd,  by  her  impartial  breath, 

They're  doom'd  to  fine,  imprisonment,  or  death. 

Thus  Judges  here  the  Judge  of  all  obey, 

Nor  dread  his  censure  in  Heav'ns'  judgment  day. 


MY    FIRST   WIFE. 

From  the  bleak  nortli  of  Erin's  shores, 
Descendant  of  the  Scottish  Moores, 

My  gentle  Alice  came  ; 
Safely  through  ocean's  trackless  maze, 
The  little  barque  her  charge  conveys. 

The  Mary  was  her  name. 

Landed  in  York,  her  destin'd  place, 
There  first  I  saw  her  smiling  face, 

And  losl  my  youthful  heart ; 
We  look'd,  we  lov'd,  ah  !  what  beside  ? 
She  soon  became  my  charming  bride, 

'Twas  nature,  'twas  not  art. 

Swiftly  our  blissful  moments  pass'd, 
Too  swiftly  unimpaired  to  last, 

And  always  prove  the  same  ; 
Three  daughters  crown'd  our  nuptial  joys. 
An  equal  complement  of  boys, 

Three  di'd  without  a  name. 

Full  twice  ten  years  and  three  we  gain, 
While  want  or  plenty  in  their  train, 

Or  vex'd  or  cheer'd  our  life ; 
And  though  our  children  grew  apace, 
Death  came,  the  foe  of  all  our  race, 

And  snatch'd  away  my  wife. 


PHYSIOGNOMY.  25 

What  then,  was  Heav'n  unkind?  ah,  noJ 
He  took  her  from  a  world  of  wo 

And  sav'd  her  by  his  grace; 
For  she  for  many  a  year  before, 
Had  learn'd  her  Maker  to  adore, 

And  daily  seek  his  face. 


EPITAPH. 


Alice,  I  linger  here  below, 
And  count  the  moments  as  they  flow ; 
Till  God  shall  fit  my  soul,  my  love, 
To  meet  thee  in  his  Heav'n  above. 


PHYSIOGNOMY,   OR    FACIAL   SKILL. 

Though  some  by  faces,  think  to  tell 
The  secrets  of  the  heart; 

Yet  long  experience  shows  it  well, 
To  be  an  erring  art. 

For  nature's  dictates  pure  and  free, 
As  Heaven  at  first  design'd  ; 

No  longer  shine  conspicuously, 
The  index  of  the  mind. 

And  mankind,  practis'd  in  deceit, 
With  arts  their  thoughts  conceal ; 

Nor  will  the  face  detect  the  cheat, 
Till  time  the  same  reveal. 

Mira,  to  scan  aright  a  face, 

Would  ev'ry  art  defy ; 
Now  cloudy  'tis,  next  clear  apace, 

And  changes  like  the  sky. 


ACROSTIC. 

AN    IMPORTANT   QUERE. 

If  from  one  vice  we  should  abstain, 
And  thereby  peace  of  conscience  gain  ; 
What  peace  would  on  our  conscience  fall, 
Should  we  abstain  from  vices  all  ? 


THE    CLERKS    ADVERTISEMENT. 

Wanted  employment  for  his  pen, 
Immediately,  from  bus'ness  men  ; 
In  Office,  Coun ting-House  or  Store, 
In  each  of  which  he's  wrote  before. 
He  now  has  leisure  on  his  hands ; 
And  ready  and  impatient  si  ands, 
To  have  a  kindly  invitation, 
To  labor  in  his  old  vocation. 
Good  names  for  character  he'll  give, 
As  any  who  in  New- York  live. 
Those  who  his  services  desire, 
Will  of  the  Printer  please  inquire. 


ACROSTIC. 

O-r  Home,  or  Foreign,  or  both  these  relations, 
M-ake  times  bear  hard  on  num'rous  occupations ; 
A-nd  though  before  our  Country's  coin  had  wings, 
N-ow  in  my  pocket  low  its  music  sings.      .^ 
S-hut  up  in  Banks  or  in  Insurance  vaults, 
A-ll  efflorescent  with  their  humid  salts, 
L-ov'd  coin,  I  cry,  why  thus  increase  my  pain  ? 
M-oney  come  out — and  show  thy  face  again. 
O-r  if  audacious,  thou  this  summons  spurn, 
N-orth  River's  current  on  Wall-street  I'll  turn. 


CURSORY  THOUGHTS  ON  WEDLOCK.  2T- 

"  JOVI   QUAM   HOMINI   FIDERE    PR^ESTAT." 


Let 

He'd 


things  go  as  they  may  or  can, 
'd  rather  trust  in  God  than  man. 


CURSORY    THOUGHTS    ON    WEPLOCKJ 

Or  the  other  side  of  the  picture. — Addressed  to  Miss  J****,  after  peru 
sing  her  elegant  eulogium  on  the  "  Married  State.'' 

. 

Oh,  happiness,  to  taste  thy  peaceful  fruits, 
Tend  all  our  aims,  our  labors  and  pursuits ; 
But  though  thy  charms  the  minds  of  all  invite, 
Yet  few  there  are  who  seek  for  thee  aright. 
Many  who've  sought  thee  otherwise,  would  fain 
In  marriage  hope  thy  blessing  to  obtain ; 
But  few  who  venture  on  the  marri'd  slate, 
But  soon  or  later  mourn  their  ill  starr'd  fate. 
Some  for  a  handsome  face  their  freedom  barter, 
And  when  too  late,  they  find  they've  caught  a  Tartar^ 
While  some  have  got  an  idle  spendthrift  mate, 
Who  in  one  month  would  spend  a  whole  estate. 
Some  women,  truly,  do  make  happy  wives, 
And  are  the  comfort  of  their  husbands'  lives  ; 
But  do,  my  Mary,  cast  a  look  around, 
And  see,  how  rarely,  these  are  to  be  found. 
I  can,  where  you  show  one  that's  kind  and  true, 
Point  out  a  score  of  idlers  to  your  view ; 
That  for  one  virtue  have  of  vices  ten,     '.n^ 
To  tease,  to  plague,  nay  punish  us  poor  men. 
Whose  fair  externals,  oft  contain  within 
A  treach'rous  heart,  and  prone  to  ev'ry  sin. 
Too  partial  you  to  utter  such  a  stricture,   jug 
You'd  only  view  the  one  side  of  the  picture. 
Yet  know,  I  think  your  sentiments  are  just, 
If  right  I've  read  them;  and  I  humbly  trust. 
If  you  but  practise  what  you'd  inculcate, 


THE  HONEST  LAWYER. 


You'll  find  a  tender,  fond,  endearing  mate. 
Since  then  no  flattery  I've  used, 
Think  not.your  sex  by  me  abus'd ; 
But  in  my  wish  believe  me  ferv'nt. 
Dear  Miss,  your  most  Obdt. — Servt. 


EPIGRAM    ON    A    CONVERTED   BUTCHER. 

Do  you  know  neighbour  John  has  commenc'd  a  new  life7 

Folks  say  he's  religiously  good  ! 
I'm  sure  I'm  glad  of  it — for  you  know,  many  years 

His  hand  has  shed  innocent  blood: 


THE    HONEST    LAWYER. 

'Tis  not  a  thousand  miles  from  hence^ 

Nor  thousand  years  ago, 
When  this  said  farce  was  carri'd  on, 

As  we  intend  to  show. 

'Twas  in  Virginia's  sultry  clime^ 
Where  Phoebus  fiercely  glows 

A  Lawyer  liv'd,  of  little  note, 
For  so  our  story  goes. 

The  reason  why  ?  he  was  full  young, 

And  also,  too  take  heed ; 
It  was  not  long  he  had  obtain'd, 

A  license,  for  to  plead. 

But  still,  to  speak  in  common  phrase, 
All  those  who  knew  him,  could 

With  truth  and  justice,  well  pronounce; 
His  character  was  good. 


THE  HONEST  LAWYER.  29 

i 

A  Parson  to  this  Lawyer  came, 

And  begg'd  he'd  use  his  art; 
And  aid  him  well  in  an  affair, 

Which  he. had  much  at  heart. 

Says  he,  "  unto  one  of  my  flock, 

I  owe  a  trifling  sum  ; 
For  which  the  man  unto  my  house, 

Full  many  a  time  did  come. 

But  I  some  pretext  always  found, 

To  turn  him  from  my  door ; 
As  saying  I  would  pay  next  time, 

Or  pleading  I  was  poor. 

HP 
So  when  from  me  he  naught  could  get 

But  promises,  he  saw  ; 
He  tries  another  way,  and  has 

Recourse  unto  the  Law. 

Now  I  could  pay  him  off  o'  hand, 

If  I  were  so  inclin'd ; 
But  that  the  wretch  to  sue  me  dares, 

Doth  sorely  grieve  my  mind. 

I  have  already  let  you  know, 

The  debt  I  don't  dispute ; 
Yet  still  'tis  my  request  to  you 

That  you  defend  the  suit. 

Inform  me  then  upon  what  day, 

You  find  it  will  commence  ; 
I  will  attend,  for  it  I  make, 

A  matter  of  con-sci-ence. 

r  I       *  „„       •   f       .   I  JA  f '  J  "*  Z  J 

And,  now  whatever  else  remains, 

That  you  should  do  for  me  ; 
You  know  already,  I  suppose, 

So  pray,  sir,  what's  your  fee  ?" 
c* 


THE  HONEST  LAWYER. 

A  Joe,  sir,  is  the  very  leastr 

I  can  afford  to  take ; 
Oh !  that  is  too  extravagant, 

A  Joe  ?  for  mercy's  sake  ! 

"  If  in  this  suit  you  interest 

Your  conscience,  d'ye  see  ; 
It  is  but  just  that  I  should  haver 

A  conscientious  fee. 

"  Then  here  it  is,  and  fare  you  weH, 

I'll  see  you  soon  again; 
So  do,  sir,  pray  defend  the  suit, 

With  all  your:  might  and  main." 

This  said,  our  Parson  soon  mov'd  off, 

As  brisk  as  any  bee ; 
The  Lawyer  laugh'd  within  his  sleeve,. 

And  pocketed  his  fee. 

PART    II. 

And  now  at  Court,  the  day  arrived; 

The  Lawyer  took  good  care 
To  warn  his  Client,  previously, 

So  he,  of  course,  was  there. 

Then  see  him  stand  in  open  Court, 

Impatiently  attending 
To  ev'ry  suit  before  his  own, 

That  in  its  turn  was  pending. 

And  now  in  order  next  came  on, 
The  suit  against  him  brought,. 

While  anxious  thoughts  his  mind  pervade, 
With,  expectation  fraught. 

£o  when  the  plaintiffs  Lawyer  urg'd,. 
The  debt  was  justly  due ;. 


31 


The  Parson's  Lawyer  started  up. 
And  stood  confess'd  to  view. 

And  turning  round  unto  the  Courlv 

He  them  did  thus  address  : 
"  My  Client,  sirs,  the  debt  does  own,- 

So  judgment  I  confess." 

But  when  our  Parson  this  did  hear> 

Quite  motionless  he  stood ; 
Surprise  had  fix'd  him  firmly  as 

A  stone  or  piece  of  wood. 

Yet  from  his  sad  surprise  at  length, 

Recov'ring  by  degrees, 
And  op'd  his  eyes,  as  wak'd  from  sleep, 

The  Lawyer  near  him  sees. 

And  looking  grave  he  takes  his  hand,. 

And  says,  "  pray  tell  me,  friend ; 
That  cause  just  tri'd,  was  it  the  one, 

I  feed  you  to  defend?" 

"It  was  the  same,  and  I  suppose 

You  heard  how  it  did  go  ?" 
"  I  did,  and  think  'twas  illy  done, 

In  you  to  serve  me  so." 

"  Why,  if  my  mem'ry  fail  me  not, 

Then  this  be  my  defence  ; 
I  think  you  said,  '  this  suit  I  make 

A  matter  of  con-sci-ence." 

"  Suppose  I  had  in  your  defence,. 

Got  up  and  li'd  a  while  ; 
As  a  good  man,  could  you  this  with: 

Your  conscience  reconcile  ? 


J2  THE  HONEST  LAWYER. 

"  Or  could  you  think,  that  I  with  itr 
Thus  like  a  knave  would  trifle ; 

Or  did  you  meanly  think  my  own, 
Your  paltry  Joe  could  stifle  ? 

"  Now  don't  you  see  that  any  man. 

Can  with  a  deal  of  ease, 
No  matter  what  his  station  is, 

Be  honest  if  he  please  ?" 

"  Enough,  enough,"  the  Parson  cri'd, 

"  I  feel  I'm  rightly  serv'd ; 
I  own  my  error,  nor  deny, 

From  rectitude  I've  swerv'd. 

"  And  now  for  what  I've  learn'd  this  day. 

My  warmest  thanks  accept ; 
As  for  your  sake  it  always  shall, 

Be  in  my  mem'ry  kept." 

And  to  his  praise  let  it  be  said, 

He  alter'd  not  his  mind  ; 
But  to  our  Lawyer  ever  since 

Has  prov'd  exceeding  kind. 

For  'mongst  his  friends  and  neighbors,  oft 

He  would  repeat  the  tale  ; 
And  they  to  others  we  suppose, 

To  tell  it  did  not  fail. 

For  soon  this  Lawyer's  practice  came 

To  be  exceeding  great ; 
No  doubt  it  chanc'd  from  what  of  him, 

The  Parson  did  relate. 

;  * .' 
Now  hoping  both  in  future  will 

Mind  well  their  sev'ral  stations  ; 
We  for  the  present  them  will  leave 

Unto  their  meditations. 


YOUTH  AND  OLD  AGE  33 

Stat  nominis  umbra. — Junius. 

Lest  some  should  think  I  too  much  covet  fame, 
Stand  an  umbrageous  for  my  real  name. 

ANOTHER. 

• 

Just  so  sure  as  a  leaf  betokens  a  tree, 

So  let  a  feiffn'd  name  stand  a  shadow  for  me* 

O 


YOUTH    AND    OLD    AOE. 

Swift  does  the  blood  through  youthful  art'ries  glide,. 
Thrown  from  life's  seat  in  a  plethoric  tide  ; 
The  fruitful  source  of  active  limb  and  mind, 
And  quick  performance  of  the  thing  design'd.. 
Sanguine  the  hopes  that  wait  on  ev'ry  plan, 
How  gay  the  prospects  of  the  op'ning  man  ; 
Onward  he  urges  his  impetuous  way, 
Nor  heeds  the  counsels  that  advise  delay, 
"•Oh!  stay  thy  course,  converse  with  men  sedate, 
Lest  thou  repent  thee  when  it  is  too  late  ; 
Nature  presents  a  thousand  things  that  smile 
Which  only  may  be  fitted  to  beguile." 
"  I  hear  thee  Age,  but  honor,  pleasure,  wealth, 
Court  and  demand  my  youthful  days  of  health^ 
And  till  I've  fully,  fairly  Iri'd  them  each, 
To  other  ears  go,  Age,  thy  maxims  preach." 


Omne  tulit  punctum, 

Qui  miscuit  utile  dulci. — Horace. 

If  you  your  readers'  minds  would  fix, 
"  The  pleasing  with  the  useful  mix ;" 
Sure  as  rheumatics  squeeze  each  joint, 
Old  Flaccus  says  you've  gain'd  your  point.. 


34  DISAPPOINTED  IN  LOVE. 

THE   AMERICAN  MUSEUM,   CORNER   OF   ANN   STREET   AND 
BROADWAY, 

Was  "founded  [A.  D.]  eighteen  hundred  ten," 
A  rare  memento  on  its  front,  what  then  ? 
The  meaning  is,  if  rightly  I  presage, 
It  is  just  one  and  twenty  years  of  age; 
Aye,  more  than  that,  I  dare  and  will  engage, 
It  asks  a  lib'ral  public's  patronage. 
Its  store  so  vast,  so  elegant,  so  grand, 
'Tis  not  surpassed  by  any  in  our  Land. 
Then  let  it  feel  its  patrons  fost'ring  care, 
Of  future  favors  taste  a  copious  share. 


- 

.,<•  :.•*;•!  iaoTt  rmo-IT 

DISAPPOINTED    IN    LOVE. 


There  is  a  rash  and  a  fatal  road, 

That  leads  the  soul  from  her  mortal  abode  ; 

Swift  as  the  arrow  that  speeds  from  the  bow, 

Down  to  the  regions  of  sorrow  and  wo. 

Where  the  music  that  thrills  through  those  mansions  be 

neath, 

Is  weeping  and  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth  ; 
And  the  howling  of  Devils  avenging  their  pain, 
On  the  souls  whom  their  malice  has  cheated  and  slain. 
Oh  horrible  sight,  oh  ponder  the  thought  ; 
The  soul  is  immortal  and  not  form'd  for  naught, 
But  destined  by  him  who  eternally  reigns, 
For  infinite  pleasures  or  infinite  pains. 
But  now  the  solemn  question's  pressing, 
To  ask,  to  answer,  how  distressing  ! 
What  baleful  influence  with  seductive  power, 
Steals  o'er  the  soul  in  an  unguarded  hour  ; 
Lulls  ev'ry  fear,  and  makes  it  play  the  knave 
With  all  its  blooming  hopes  beyond  the  grave? 
Oh  could  the  spirit,  that  bodiless  thing, 
One  moment  obtain,  how,  on  rapidest  wing, 


EPITAPH  ON  A  HARD  DRINKER.  35 

It  would  fly  to  this  earth  and  the  question  decide, 
Declaring  to  all  it  was  martifi'd  pride ! 
Oh  pride,  thou  fall  of  angels  and  of  men,    * 
When  will  God's  mercy  drive  thee  to  thy  den ; 
Thee,  and  thy  father,  and  thy  mother  Sin, 
Seal'd  up,  ye  fiends,  eternally  shut  in  ? 
And  now,  ye  yoliths,  for  some  of  you  I  saw 
With  silent  steps  and  thoughtful  faces  draw 
Near  to  the  coffin,  gazing  through  the  end, 
At  the  pale  face  of  your  departed  friend, 
Now  while  the  sight  is  present  to  each  eye, 
This  warning  take  from  Wisdom's  gen'ral  cry; 
"  My  son,  be  wise,  from  ev'ry  sin  depart, 
And  guard,  oh  guard  the  issues  of  thy  heart ; 
Secure  the  friendship  of  thy  God,  my  son, 
And  he'll  protect  thee  from  the  wicked  one. 
Then  if  grim  death  should  call  thee  away, 
From  thy  friends  in  the  morning  of  life's  short  day, 
When'they're  summon'd  the  last  sad  tribute  lo  pay, 
With  joy  in  the  earlh  they'll  deposit  thy  clay, 
Not  doubting  thou  wilt  at  the  grand  rising  morn, 
As  his  jewel  the  crown  of  thy  Saviour  adorn." 
And,  oh,  ye  fathers,  and  ye  mothers  dear, 
Your  duty  and  your  interest  is  clear ; 
Train  up  your  children  in  a  godly  way, 
They'll  not  forget  it  at  a  later  day. 
Religion,  Religion,  the  soul's  main  stay, 
When  the  earth  and  the  sea  shall  both  flee  away, 
Possess  us  through  life,  that  when  call'd  on  to  die, 
We  may  reign  with  our  Saviour  triumphant  on  high. 
-  f* y / ••  n  \i j IxiJt.-o 

.  _       . '    •        •:  <  v.f  o!  tcniV 

EPITAPH  ON  A  HARD  DRINKER. 

,w.f 

Can'st  tell  the  reason  why  in  life's  fair  prime, 
He  had  to  quit  the  shallow  shores  of  time  ? 
Few  were  his  solids,  either  meat  or  meal, 
He  liv'd  by  suction,  like  a  lamper  eel. 


36  FREE  MASONRY. 

WHAT    YOU    PLEASE. 

I  thought  I  would  a  piece  compose, 
One  line  in  rhyme  and  one  in  prose. 

I  suppose  you  need  not  be  told, 

That  hot  love  is  soon  cold  ; 

With  grief  it  also  holds  good, 

Now  in  pleasant,  next  in  doleful  mood ; 

And  truly  it  ought  to  be  so ; 

For  who  to  himself  is  so  much  a  foe  ; 

To  allow  incessant  grief  to  destroy, 

All  his  pleasures  all  his  joy  ? 

We  should  be  wretched  mortals  truly, 

Always  to  grieve,  nor  treat  life's  crosses  cooly. 

Has  not  Nature  sufficient  charms, 

To  lure  thee  from  fell  melancholy's  arms  ? 

Look  in  any  direction  you  please, 

All  is  for  your  comfort  and  your  ease. 

Dismiss  your  gloom,  then,  wear  a  smiling  face, 

Your  grief  will  of  itself  wear  off  apace  ; 

And  unto  sorrow  joy  shall  soon  succeed, 

And  quick  eradicate  each  bitter  weed, 

That  would  contentment's  genlle  growth  impede. 


AN    ODE    ON   FREE    MASONRY. 

Illum'd  by  Reason's  feebler  rays, 
Thus  sang  the  Bard  in  youthful  days. 

When  lofty  themes  themselves  present, 
Unto  my  mind's  enlighten'd  eye  ; 

I  would  thy  pleasing  paths  frequent, 
Sweet  maid  whose  name  is  poesy; 

I'd  ask  thine  aid  in  ev'ry  strait, 

Assur'd  thou  would'st  not  tell  me  wrong 


THE  HEADLESS  SPECTRE.  37 

But  gently  whisper  while  I  wait, 

"  Fond  youth  I'll  help  thee  in  thy  song." 

"  Say,  then,"  the  Heav'n-taught  Muse  began, 

"  They  who  Religion's  truths  confess, 
Own  that  slje  can  for  fallen  man, 

Insure  eternal  happiness. 
But  if  all  men  she  can't  allure, 

To  love  their  brethren  as  they  ought ; 
Whatever  will  that  end  insure, 

Is  with  the  noblest  purpose  fraught. 

See  then,  in  mystic  dress  array'd, 

In  Masonry  'tis  realized; 
'Tis  she  Religion's  cause  would  aid, 

And  make  her  more  than  ever  prized. 
She  would  enforce  that  great  command, 

Which  from  sent  down  by  Heav'n  above, 
And  teach  all  men  in  ev'ry  land, 

Their  Brethren  as  themselves  to  love." 

•f.tr  sifhn/.  .' 
Is  this,  oh!  Masonry,  thine  aim. 

In  bonds  fraternal  to  unite  ; 
With  thy  pure  precepts  to  reclaim, 

And  bid  all  men  to  do  aright  ? 
Then  while  on  earth  man  can  be  found, 

Till  night  and  day  shall  cease  to  be ; 
Thine  influence  still  diffuse  around, 

And  ever  flourish  Masonry. 


THE    HEADLESS    SPECTRE,    OR   THE    SOLEMN   WARNING. 

Death  can  send  his  solemn  warning, 
As  well  at  night  as  in  the  morning. 

The  Mail-man  left  the  office  by  day, 
And  jogg'd  along  on  his  nag ; 

D 


38  THE  HEADLESS  SPECTRE. 

A  goodly  steed,  as  judges  might  say, 
With  his  well-fill'd  Letter  Bag. 

His  journey  lay  through  a  portion  fair, 

In  a  state  of  culture  high ; 
Of  land,  as  good  as  any  in  air 

Was  view'd  by  the  Eagle's  eye. 

His  road  was  such  as  it  pleas'd  folks  then, 
But  not  as  they  now  quite  are  ; 

The  trav'ling  was  by  horses  and  men, 
But  not  in  a  Rail-Road  Car. 

And  now  a  part  of  the  road  he  ncars, 

Bewooded  on  either  side ; 
'Twas  gloomy  enough  to  awaken  his  fears, 

But  he  was  used  to  the  ride. 

The  Moon  was  shining  in  lustre,  high 

O'er  all  the  country  around  ; 
And  he  was  lost,  as  he  view'd  the  sky, 

And  buried  in  thoughts  profound. 

Just  then  he  enter'd  the  wooded  place^ 
'Twas  silent  and  drear  as  death  ; 

And  all  was  calm  as  the  Moon's  bright  face. 
And  the  wind  blew  not  a  breath. 

Anon  he  hears  behind  him  the  sound 

Of  another  horse's  feet ; 
But  he  still  rides  on,  nor  turns  him  round  ; 

But  straightens  him  in  his  seat. 

For  he  thought  it  might  be  some  traveller, 
Who  his  side  would  rather  choose  ; 

And  converse  bland  to  silence  prefer, 
And  thus  each  other  amuse. 


THE  HEADLESS  SPECTRE.  39 

But  as  he  rode  on,  no  nearer  came 
The  sound  of  the  strange  horse's  feet; 

The  distance  appear'd  to  be  the  same, 
As  his  ear  at  first  did  greet. 

Now  by  this  time  he'd  arrived  mid-way, 

Of  the  wooded  length  of  road ; 
He  turn'd,  he  saw — but  oh  what  dismay, 

His  heart  in  his  visage  show'd  ! 

He  saw — how  strange  !  'twas  startling  to  view — 

His  own  horsc-'s  form  confess'd  ; 
Saddle  and  bridle  and  mail-bag  too, 

As  on  his  rear  it  press'd. 

His  own  form  mounted  he  saw,  astride 

Of  the  shadow'y  horse's  back ; 
And  indeed  'twas  queer  to  see  it  ride, 

While  the  form  a  head  did  lack. 

Oh  then  he  gave  to  his  horse  the  spur, 

And  he  streak'd  it  like  the  wind  ; 
Yet  clearly  he  heard  the  Spectre's  whir, 

And  the  horse's  tramp  behind. 

But  now  he  had  gain'd  the  open  ground, 

Of  the  wooded  road  in  advance, 
He  check'd  his  horse,  and,  partly  turn'd  round, 

He  view'd  the  Spectre  askance. 

He'd  stopp'd  on  the  edge  of  the  hither  half, 

Of  the  wooded  road,  the  sprite  ; 
And  he  set  up  a  horrible  laugh, 

And  vanish'd  from  out  his  sight ! 

PART  THE    SECOND. 

And  now  our  long  tale  draws  nigh  to  a  close, 
We've  made  it  in  rhyme,  though  we  heard  it  in  prose  ; 


THE  HEADLESS  SPECTRE. 

And  the  actors  have  left  this  vale  of  wo, 
Some  forty  or  fifty  long  years  ago. 

Our  mail-man  mused  on  the  sight  he'd  just  seen, 
So  novel  to  him — ^aye,  what  could  it  mean  ? 
-  Or  came  it  a  foe,  or  came  it  a  friend, 
Or  evil  or  good  did  the  Spectre  portend  ? 

If  'twas  good,  in  what,  he  could  not  conceive, 
Or  what  of  his  comforts,  if  evil,  bereave  ; 
So  while  in  his  brain  such  reas'nings  pass'd  through, 
The  spires  of  old  Gotham  were  heaving  in  view. 

He  thought  in  himself,  When  I've  arriv'd  there, 
To  the  house  of  my  friend  Gen'ral  M***  I'll  repair; 
111  tell  him  my  tale  of  the  Headless  Sprite, 
And  the  cause  he,  mayhap,  will  resolve  of  my  fright. 

His  mail  then  secured  and  his  horse  besides, 
Through  streets  and  through  lanes  he  rapidly  glides  ; 
The  coast  being  clear,  it  was  no  great  while, 
Ere  he  stood  on  the  stoop  of  his  friend's  domicile. 

He  knock  d  at  the  door,  the  door  open'd  wide, 
And  closely  his  friend,  quickly  stood  by  his  side  j 
What  is  it,  thought  he,  can  the  mail-man  ail, 
His  visage  so  ghastly,  so  thoughtful,  so  pale  ? 

"  Come  in,  come  in,  and,  my  friend  take  a  seat, 
A  ghost  hast  thou  seen  ?  relate  I  entreat ; 
Thy  visage  so  long,  and  so  pale  is  thy  face, 
Some  one  thing  or  other  must  be  out  of  place  !" 

The  Mail-man  opened  his  mouth  full  wide, 
And,  his  eyes  turn'd  up,  he  told  of  his  ride; 
He  look'd  to  the  Gen'ral,  the  cause  to  explain,. 
His  looks  and  his  waiting,  alas  !  were  in  vain. 


NEW-YORK.  41 

His  friend  sold  chandlery  by  the  piece  or  lot, 

Of  the  law  that  rul'd  sprites,  his  friend  ken'd  'e"m  not ; 

So  he  said  if  he'd  go  straightway  to  bed, 

He'd  find  all  his  fears  by  morning  had  fled. 

To  a  Hotel,  hard  by,  he  then  repairs, 
He  ask'd  for  lodgings,  was  lighted  up  stairs  ; 
We  cannot  tell  what  were  his  dreams  that  night, 
Or  pleasant  they  were,  or  fill'd  with  afright. 

By  times  next  morn  from  his  bed  he  arose, 
And  as  he  was  wont,  he  put  on  his  clothes  ; 
He  fell  down  the  stairs,  and  not  a  word  spoke 
As  they  rais'd  him  up — for  his  neck  was  broke. 


FAS    EST    AB    HOSTE    DOCERI. 

That  good  instruction  never  should  be  spurn'd, 
Which  may  from  e'en  an  enemy  be  learn'd. 


NEW-YORK,    ADDRESSED    TO    S.    WOODWORTH    &    CO. 

Kind  sirs,  I  greet  you  on  your  enterprise ; 
You've  chose  a  subject  of  no  trifling  size; 
New-York  !  New- York  !  and  there  the  mind  intent, 
Hangs  o'er  the  words  in  mute  astonishment. 
Search  fire  and  water,  next  try  earth  and  air, 
To  which  of  these  can  you  New- York  compare  ? 
Was  e'er  poor  Poet  in  so  sad  a  case  ? 
Is  it  a  hill,  a  mountain,  or  a  place  ? 
Pish  !  says  a  Prig  in  definition  skill'd, 
'Tis  a  small  spot  of  ground  with  houses  fill'd  ; 
It  crooked  lanes  and  obscure  alleys  claims, 
And  streets  abundant  with  all  sorts  of  names, 
Two  rapid  rivers,  Hudson  and  the  Sound, 
D* 


4*  NEW-YORK. 

Join'd  with  fam'd  Harlem,  close  it  in  all  round. 

This  is  New-York,  pray  is  the  picture  true  ? 

Why  all  the  length  that  you  have  gone,  'twill  do; 

But  if  Grace  Church  is  not  without  a  steeple, 

Then  surely,  sir,  you  have  forgot  the  people, 

Who  o'er  its  streets  in  busy  masses  trip, 

From  Broadway's  height,  down  to  the  Whitehall  slip; 

Nor  have  their  arts,  nor  their  devices  shown, 

By  which  they  rich  and  opulent  have  grown ; 

Nor  nam'd  those  piles  which  strike  the  raptur'd  view 

Built  for  Religion,  bus'ness,  pleasure  toor 

Ah,  Poet !  now  I  ween  what  you're  about, 

You  from-  your  theme  would  spin  a  poem  out. 

Now,  Poet,  take  not  thou  my  words  amiss, 

I  have  no  head  for  such  a  work  as  this. 

Yet  listen,  sir,  until  my  plan  you  hear, 

For  should  you  have  no  head  !  you  have  an  ear. 

Yes,  you  are  right,  I  feel  my  mind  soar  high, 

And  view  the  subject  with  a  Poet's  eye. 

New- York !  I  hail  thee,  destin'd  by  the  fates,. 

The  future  Mistress  of  the  United  States. 

Thy  noble  rivers  and  thy  spacious  bay, 

Where  four  gay  isles  imbedded  in  it  lay  ; 

Placed  near  the  sea,  afford  a  safe  retreat, 

To  the  lone  ship,  or  to  the  num'rous  fleet. 

There  have  I  seen  alternately  unfurl'd, 

The  waving  glory  of  the  trading  \vorld. 

Oh  could  fell  war  with  its  dire  evils  cease, 

And  the  tired  world  enjoy  an  honest  peace  ; 

Then  would  Europa's  stately  barks  resort, 

With  precious  burdens  to  thy  friendly  port ; 

And  waft  away  from  out  thy  teeming  stores, 

Thy  surplus  produce  to  far  distant  shores. 

And  sister  states  their  wonted  gains  pursue, 

And  pour  their  wealth  through  ev'ry  avenue  ; 

From  Orleans'  Island  to  the  Mountain  green, 

Into  thy  lap,  O  thou  mercantile  Queen  ! 

So,  sir,  what  think  you  of  this  rhapsody  ? 

Oh,  quite  poetic,  sir,  'twixt  you  and  me> 


DISCORD.  43 

But,  pray,  where  are  you  minded  it  shall  go  ? 

Why  to  New-York— "To  S.  Woodworth  &  Co." 

Say,  hav'nt  you  noticed  what  a  dashing  caper, 

They've  lately  cut  in  the  Mercantile  paper  ? 

Yet  to  their  praise  let  it  be  said,  they're  wise, 

They  all  the  credit  won't  monopolize. 

Then  where's  the  harm  if  we  cut  in  along, 

And  help  them  out  in  their  intended  song  ? 

If  it  should  but  the  public  ordeal  pass, 

'Twill  give  a  name  more  durable  than  brass.* 

Then  let  chaste  poetry  for  ever  live, 

And  in  your  Book  to  Kelmonezer  give 

A  little  niche,  a  little  sprig  of  bay, 

And  he's  rewarded  for  his  well-meant  lay. 


A   LAW   MAXIM,    VERSIFIED. 

Lex  neminem  cogit  ad  vana  seu  impossibilia. 

The  law  forces  no  one,  neither  woman  nor  man, 
To  do  any  thing  vain,  or  beyond  what  they  can. 


ROGUES    FALLING    OUT. 

When  rogues  fall  out,  don't  be  affrighted, 
For  honest  men  will  then  be  righted. 


DISCORD. 

Malignant,  cruel,  fierce,  outrageous  clashings, 
Compare  we  to  infernal  lightning's  flashings. 

*  ./Ere  perennium. 


44  THE  CORRECT  LAWYER. 

GREATER    AND    LESSER    THINGS. 

All  lesser  must  to  greater  things  give  way, 
And  be  postpon'd  until  some  later  day. 


'  NOT    AT    HOME. 

Whence  came  the  custom,  or  from  Greece  or  Rome, 

To  bid  the  servants  say  "he's  not  at  home  ?" 

While  he  to  whom  the  master  was  denied, 

Knew  well,  full  well,  the  instructed  servant  lied. 

But  let  it  come  from  far,  or  whence  it  will, 

The  odious  practice  is  in  being  still. 

Could  we  not  name  of  would-be  great  men  scores, 

Who  send  this  lying  message  to  their  doors  ? 

Oh  what  a  precious  lesson  for  our  youth, 

By  times  to  teach  them  to  belie  the  truth  ! 

And  do  her  bonds,  involve  no  crime  when  broke, 

Those  sacred  bonds  which  they  treat  as  a  joke  ? 

Yet  once  a  learned  Jewish  King  decreed, 

Naught  could  in  strength  the  naked  truth  exceed. 

Himself  the  Truth  our  Saviour  too  declares, 

And  where's  the  man  to  contradict  him  dares  ? 

Think  then,  ye  liars,  in  the  world  to  come, 

Shall  Heav'n  or  Hell  be  your  enduring  home  I 


THE  CORRECT  LAWYER;  OR  A  GENERAL  RCLE  WITHOUT 
AN  EXCEPTION. 

Hav'nt  you  heard  folks  say  since  you  came  out  o'  school, 
Without  an  exception  there's  no  general  rule  ! 
Yet  this  you  will  own  or  the  grammar  discard, 
The  "gamma"  in  Greek  you  must  always  sound  hard. 
The  Lawyer  an  assertion  made, 
The  Judge  soon  stopp'd  him  short ; 


EPITAPH.  45 


The  Lawyer  prov'd  the  judge  was  wrong, 

By  the  above  retort. 
When  you  on  matters  of  import  decide, 
Don't  let  your  terms  be  too  unqualified. 


CICERO  SATS  THAT "TEARS  SOON  DRY  UP. 

So  small  is  the  containing  cup, 
Tears  last  not  long,  but  soon  dry  up. 


FRIENDLY    TERMINATION    OF    A    DISPUTE. 

.>:w.:!  fa  (as;  jitaoy  sirfj  lis 

There  let  it  in  perpetual  silence  lie, 
Till  you,  and  I,  and  all  the  world  shall  die. 


EPITAPH. 


Body !  with  others  'tis  thy  lot, 

To  moulder  here  in  church-yard  dust ; 
Sleep  on,  thou  shall  not  be  forgot, 

When  the  last  trumpet  wakes  the  just. 


ANOTHER. 


Our  life  is  a  vapor,  quick  passing  away, 

But  Faith  is  a  taper,  by  whose  shining  ray, 

The  City  we  view,  at  the  end  of  the  race, 

Where  God  and  the  Lamb,  are  the  light  of  the  place. 


46  AN  ELEGY. 

AN   ELEGY    ON    THE    DEATH    OF   A   FRIEND. 

Assist  Melpomene,  thou  weeping  muse  ; 
Do  not  fair  mourner  the  sad  call  refuse  ; 
But  let  thy  tears  and  mine  conjointly  flow, 
To  pay  the  tribute  which  to  worth  we  owe. 

Ah  then  he's  gone  the  way  of  all  our  world ! 
Death's  greedy  tyrant,  at  his  bosom  hurl'd 
The  fatal  dart  that  stopp'd  his  vital  breath, 
And  seal'd  his  eyelids  in  the  sleep  of  death. 

Thus  some  tall  tree  that  graced  the  mountain's  brow, 
Beneath  the  woodman's  fatal  axe  lies  low  ; 
In  manhood's  vigor  just  prepar'd  to  bloom, 
So  fell  this  youth  and  met  his  early  tomb. 

Kind  Nature,  lavish  of  her  charms,  bestow'd 
A  winning  form  where  manly  beauty  glow'd ; 
But  nobler  beauties  far  his  mind  possess'd, 
T  With  truth,  with  virtue,  and  with  knowledge  bless'd. 

Alas !  that  form  so  comely  in  our  sight, 

Is  now  no  longer  fitted  to  delight ; 

The  spirit's  flown,  and  who  can  tell  us  where  ? 

Yet  Heav'n-born  hope  forbids  us  to  despair. 

O'er  him  fair  friendship  shed  the  falling  tear, 
To  him  thy  sacred  name  was  ever  dear ; 
Firm  to  the  test  his  noble  soul  stood  true, 
With  gen'rous  ardor  paid  affection's  due. 

A  friend  he  had — 'tis  now  his  mournful  lot 

In  silent  grief  to  view  the  lonely  spot, 

Where  his  friend's  pale,  extended  corpse  lies  bound, 

By  Death's  strong  fetters  in  the  clay-cold  ground. 

But  Hope,  fair  Hope  revives  the  aching  soul, 
Where  grief  and  sorrow  reign'd  without  control ; 


EPITAPH.  47 

Points  to  the  joys  that  are  reserv'd  in  store, 
By  Nature's  God  whom  virtue's  sons  adore. 

Yes,  much  lov'd  youth,  thy  God  himself  prepares 
A  sure  reward,  relief  from  all  thy  cares  ; 
Methinks  I  see  thy  spirit  wing  its  flight, 
Up  to  the  realms  of  never-fading  light. 

Then  fare  the  well,  thou  dear  departed  shade  ; 
Remembrance  fond  shall  oft  impart  her  aid ; 
Ingenuous  sorrow  well  perform  her  part, 
To  keep  thy  mem'ry  fix'd  within  my  heart. 


EPITAPH    ON    A    CERTAIN    SEA    CAPTAIN. 

Full  oft  he  cross'd  the  raging  main, 
To  India's  clime  and  back  again  ; 
But  since  his  voyage  of  life  is  o'er, 
Let's  meet  him  on  fair  Canaan's  shore. 

ANOTHER. 

We  all  must  to 

The  world  of  spirits  go, 
And  dwell  in  endless  bliss 

Or  endless  wo ; 
Yet  he  who  in 

•His  Maker's  favor  dies, 
Shall  live  to  reign 
With  him  above  the  skies. 

ANOTHER. 

Long  her  patient  spirit  bore 
Her  Heavenly  father's  rod  ; 

Till  he  bade  that  spirit  soar, 
To  the  embraces  of  its  God. 


48  FORTUNE'S  TWO  HANDS. 

ON    THE    DEATH    OF    A    RELIGIOUS    LADY    OF    THIS    CITY. 

Greedy  Death,  pale  terror's  king, 

Bends  his  bow  and  draws  the  string ; 

Swift  the  unerring  arrow  flies, 

And  in  her  breast  transfix'd  it  lies. 

But  not  her  soul,  oh  Death 's  thy  prize  ! 

It  claims  its  mansion  in  the  skies  ; 

Then,  monster,  boast  thy  wondrous  skill, 

Of  the  dead  body  lake  thy  fill ; 

Till  from  the  grave  high  Heaven's  king, 

Bid  it  mount  up  on  swiftest  wing. 

All  beauteous  as  the  first  born  sons  of  light, 

And  meet  its  soul  with  glory  beaming  bright. 

To  taste  that  bliss  which  was,  as  Truth  has  said, 

For  such  prepared  before  our  world  was  made, 


EPITAPH    ON    A    DEPARTED    WIFE. 

Thus,  dearest,  we  our  Maker's  call  obey, 

And  thus  the  living  turns  to  lifeless  clay ; 

Since  then  thou'st  'scap'd  this  world  of  wo  and  pain, 

May  Heav'n  our  "  loss  make  thine  eternal  gain." 


FORTUNE  S   TWO   HANDS;    INDUSTRY   AND   FRUGALITY,   AN 
APOTHEGM    VERSIFIED. 

Fortune  alike  with  other  dames 

A  right  as  well  as  left  hand  claims ; 

For  Industry  her  right  is  fam'd, 

Frugality  her  left  is  nam'd. 

And  would  folks  heed  this  as  they  should, 

Less  oft  they'd  call  her  bad  than  good. 


ORATORY.  49 

ORATORY  OF  THE  FORUM  AND  THE  PULPIT. 

In  books  both  sacred  and  profane  we're  told, 

How  high  they  valued  Orators  of  old ; 

To  hear  Demosthenes  'gainst  Philip  thunder, 

You  with  the  sage  Athenians  would  wonder, 

How  words  and  gestures  skilfully  combined, 

Possess  such  power  to  captivate  the  mind. 

That  e'en  the  coward  while  his  voice  he  hears, 

Thinks  but  of  Philip  and  forgets  his  fears  ; 

And  list'ning  hosts  cry,  as  a  single  man, 

Perish  the  haughty  Macedonian  ! 

Pass  we  from  Greece  and  now  on  Roman  earth, 

That  far  famed  land,  which  gave  great  Cicero  birth, 

And  in  the  Senate  seated — see  him  rise, 

While  all  attentive  fix  on  him  their  eyes. 

He  speaks  to  Cataline,  who,  lost  to  shame, 

Would  wrap  Rome's  city  in  the  midnight  flame. 

Next  to  the  Senate — arm,  for  danger's  nigh, 

And  shortly  you  or  Cataline  must  die. 

Deep  in  their  minds  his  pond'rous  words  descend  ; 

Fierce  they  survey  their  foe  and  pleas'd  their  friend. 

On"  rush  their  legions  with  impetuous  roar, 

The  abandon'd  Cat'line  falls  to  rise  no  more. 

But  while  we  grant  to  Greece  and  Rome  their  due, 

Still  other  lands  have  had  their  speakers  too ; 

How  many  Orators  does  Britain  boast, 

Her  indigenes  say  what  a  mighty  host  ? 

And  were  we  vain,  we'd  ask,  Do  any  foil 

The  nervous  speakers  of  our  native  soil  ? 

Yet  ere  the  subject  to  a  close  we  draw, 

We'll  view  the  champions  of  another  law  ; 

Thousands  have  plead  for  justice,  yet,  forsooth, 

Millions  have  pleaded  in  the  cause  of  truth. 

Among  the  last  behold  the  Apostle  Paul, 

Stand  forth  truth's  champion  in  the  Pragtor's  hall ; 

And  while  he  hears  him  of  the  Judgment  treat, 

How  the  stern  Roman  trembles  in  his  seat ! 

Mark  his  reply :  "  For  this  time  go  thy  way, 


50  THE  FIRE  PIPE. 

I'll  hear  thee  of  this  thing  another  day." 

In  Truth's  fair  cause  how  keen  his  every  word, 

Like  a  dividing,  piercing,  two-edg'd  sword ! 

Apollos  too,  how  eloquent  his  tongue  ! 

What  list'ning  thousands  on  his  accents  hung! 

A  simple  tale  hear  Kephas  next  impart, 

Three  thousand  souls  are  smitten  to  the  heart ! 

Such  were  the  Christain  Orators  of  old, 

Who  nobly  plead  for  Truth  and  not  for  gold. 

Oh,  we  would  feel  ourselves  supremely  bless'd, 

If  of  such  gen'rous,  ardent  souls  possess'd  : 

Yet  if  we  can't  such  excellence  attain, 

Why  should  we  count  our  labor  wholly  vain  ? 

There's  set  before  us  as  a  mark — a  prize, 

To  which  it  is  our  privilege  to  rise ; 

In  goodness  there  are  depths,  and  lengths,  and  heights, 

To  which  Religion  all  of  us  invites. 

Her  once  attain'd  we  all  our  force  should  bend, 

Fair  Truth  in  words  and  actions  to  defend  ; 

For  her  the  powers  of  speech  should  cultivate, 

Till  Heav'fl  promote  us  to  a  better  state. 


THE    FIRE    PIPE. 

Or  grave  amusement  of  the  Fathers  of  the  City  of  Gotham,  some  ten 
or  twelve  years  agone,  as  enacted  by  them  in  committee  of  the  whole. 

Each  one  in  his  senses  most  freely  consents, 

That  Fire's  the  fiercest  of  all  elements. 

The  Earth  may  fall  on  you,  and  crush  you  to  death, 

And  immers'd  in  the  water  'twill  soon  stop  your  breath  ; 

To  be  sure  you  may  now  and  then  suffer  from  air, 

But  with  Fire's  fell  influence  naught  can  compare. 

Yet  while  this  assertion  with  boldness  we  make, 

We  enter  this  caveat,  pray  don't  mistake, 

We  mean  nothing  more  than  the  fire  of  matter, 

Which  if  ta'en  as  a  former  succumbs  to  a  latter; 


THE  FIRE  PIPE.  51 

With  ease  a  few  Engines  the  first  may  control, 

But  who  can  extinguish  that  fire — the  soul  ? 

Now  here  let  who  will,  we  will  not  engage, 

But  solely  to  hint,  not  instruct  this  wise  age  ; 

We  have  Newtons  enough,  who  could  all  the  day  long, 

Hidden  causes  explain,  or  in  prose,  or  in  song. 

Then  away  to  the  point  we'd  have  chiefly  in  hand ; 

And  thou  Fancy  be  still,  and  thou  Fact  take  command. 

A  monstrous  uproar — lately  chanced  in  our  City, 

At  which  some  cried  shame,  others  said  'twas  a  pity, 

On  some  night  of  the  month  which  has  now  pass'd  away, 

All  the  bells  rang  for  fire,  but  not  for  a  fray. 

Yet  just  so  it  happen'd,  and  who  could  prevent  it, 

And  who  will  pretend  to  say  who  it  was  sent  it  ? 

Though  we  all  know  this  world  is  abundant  in  crosses, 

And  underlings  quarrel  and  so  do  their  Bosses ; 

As  'tis  with  two  persons  so  'tis  with  a  nation, 

'Twas  a  quarrel  before,  now  an  accommodation ; 

And  with  the  old  Sage,  with  the  same  eyes  we  see, 

And  cry,  "  oh  'tis  pleasant  for  friends  to  agree  !" 

Then  the  breach  being  heal'd  and  no  longer  existing, 

And  all  is  fair  play,  and  no  turning  nor  twisting, 

We'll  view  the  whole  ground,  as  wound  up  in  a  frolick, 

In  which  were  Dram.  Per.,  the  whole  "lot  and  tetolick," 

Of  Bosses  'bove  Bosses  whose  right  is  undoubted, 

To    "round  and  to  bound"  when  they  Discord  have 

routed ; 

In  a  twinkling  they  all  now  with  one  voice  agree, 
To  resolve  the  whole  House  'to  a  Pipe  Committee ! 
Then  the  Pipe  being  screw'd  on,  ah,  ever  so  tight, 
Number  Two  grasp'd  it  hold  with  his  hand  call'd  his  right, 
Clean  out  we  will  play  her,  says  he,  at  this  meeting, 
All  the  while  his  dexterity  each  one  was  greeting. 
Then  up  stepp'd  number  Nine,  and  began  to  complain, 
"  The  Pipe  is  too  loose,  screw,  it  pray  sirs,  again." 
The  Pipe  was  screw'd  up,  and  how  wond'rous  to  mention, 
Its  performance  excited  a  gen'ral  attention  ! 
Next  came  number  Three,  and  the  Pipe  felt  and  view'd, 
For  himself  and  the  rest  'twas  by  far  too  tight  screw'd. 


52  THE  FIRE  PIPE. 

So  he  moved  that  some  others  would  take  it  straight  way, 
And  show  him  their  art  and  their  secret  to  play. 
Then,  as  though  he'd  been  called  on  by  name  to  the  Pipe, 
Number  Four  stretch'd  his  hand,  and  with  a  strong  gripe, 
He  twisted  it  round,  and  its  charge,  without  grace 
Flew  straight  as  an  arrow  into  number  Three's  face ; 
And  did  number  Three  fly  into  a  passion  ? 
No,  no,  let  me  tell  you,  he's  not  got  that  fashion ; 
But  he  courteously  cried  as  a  man  to  his  brother, 
"Fire  away,  my  brave  fellow,  and  give  us  another." 
But  what  were  his  motives,  if  wrong  or  if  right, 
We  never  did  ask  him,  why  so  impolite, 
As  not  to  oblige  number  Three  with  that  douse, 
He  crav'd  for  himself  and  some  more  of  the  House  ? 
But  no  doubt  this  was  solv'd  by  his  Honor  the  Second, 
Who  a  skilful  Pipe-man  has  been  hitherto  reckon'd, 
He  with  wonted  suavity  stretch'd  his  hand  out, 
And  with  a  small  touch  turn'd  the  pipe  quite  about, 
That  Seven  consented  is  certainly  plain; 
It  is  right,  he  exclaim'd,  and  so  let  it  remain. 
And  in  this  he  was  aided  as  quick  as  a  flash, 
By  a  Pipe-man  whose  name  is  conceal'd  by  a  dash. 
At  the  Pipe  number  Three  once  again  gave  a  look — 
Not  straight,  "  it  is  certain,"  it  has  a  huge  crook. 
Unless  some  of  the  Pipe-men  will  speedily  mend  it, 
I  fear  their  exertions  will  more  and  more  bend  it. 
Number  Nine  thought  the  crook  he  could  plainly  discern, 
"  Just  there — in  that  spot — see  the  Pipe  has  a  turn." 
Four  Pz'pe-men  who  acted  as  Stewards  for  all, 
Averr'd  that  it  wanted  no  mending  at  all ! 
Number  Nine  in  a  partner  was  now  left  to  scan, 
What  many  men  knew,  he'd  mistaken  his  "Man." 
Number  Seven  would  have  it  acknowledg'd  on  all  hands, 
The  Pipe  is  just  right  in  the  way  that  it  now  stands. 
And  now  number  Three  rose  up  as  before, 
But  his  Honor  the  First,  would  not  let  him  speak  more, 
And  the  rest  of  the  Pipe-men  he  had  to  petition,. 
Who  very  good  humour'dly  granted  permission, 
And  then  he  proceeded  to  show  with  much  force 


MY  SECOND  WIFE.  53 

That  the  pipe  must  be  straighten'd,  yes,  straighten'd'  of 

course. 

Number  Seven  could  not  understand,  by  the  by, 
That  the  pipe  was  too  low,  or  the  pipe  was  too  high, 
Then  a  Steward  stepp'd  up  and  declar'd  to  all  round, 
That  the  pipe  was  both  straight,  both  solid  and  sound. 
Whereupon  being  tired  and  sated  with  play, 
They  ordered  the  pipe  to  be  taken  away, 
And  to  let  the  folks  know  by  means  of  their  papers, 
That  in  peace  they  had  ended  their  wat'ry  capers. 


CHORUS    OMNIUM. 

Then  success  to  the  Pipe,  and  to  those  who  attend  it, 
All  ranks  high  and  low  are  bound  to  defend  it ; 
Far  off  be  the  time,  and  still  farther  than  then, 
It  ever  shall  suffer  from  water  or  men. 


MY    SECOND    WIFE  ;     OR   EARLY    COURTSHIP. A.    SONNET. 

Fanny  is  the  girl  for  me, 
Brisk  she  is  as  any  bee  ; 
Always  cheerful,  always  gay, 
Blooming  as  the  flow'rs  of  May, 

Never  sullen,  never  pouting, 
Never  angry,  never  flouting  ? 
Laughing,  singing  all  the  day 
Driving  grief  and  care  away. 

Giddy,  yet  her  heart  is  true, 
Loving  me  as  is  my  due ; 
For  she  well  knows  that  I  mean, 
To  make  her  my  little  Queem 

E* 


54  SECOND  COURTSHIP. 

Hymen,  come  with  lighted  torch, 
Lead  us  to  thy  Temple's  porch  -r 
Join  our  hearts  and  join  our  hands, 
In  thy  soft  endearing  bands. 

With  her  care  shall  flee  away, 
Happy  I  both  night  and  day  : 
With  her  "  brisk  as  any  bee," 
Fanny  is  the  girl  for  me. 


MY    SECOND    COURTSHIP    OF    MY    PRESENT    WIFE. 

But  there  are  bars  to  diff'rent  things, 
To  cause  them  to  miscarry  ; 

For  sure  it  does  not  always  chance, 
To  woo,  and  then  to  marry. 

A  mother,  in  her  dotage,  oft 
Between  the  parties  stands  ; 

And  thwarts  their  fondest  wishes,  by 
Persuasions,  or  commands. 

And  so  she  was,  she  whom  I  would 

Have  made  my  little  wife  ; 
Persuaded  by  her  mother  dear, 

To  lead  a  single  life. 

But  Providence  whose  wise  designs,. 

We  mortals  cannot  scan ; 
Removed  her  mother  from  this  world, 

And  left  behind  my  Fan. 

Years  after  years  had  roll'd  away, 

With  me  a  married  man ; 
And  she  a  single  woman  still, 

I  mean  my  little  Fan. 


PUFFING.  55 

Then  Providence  as  He  saw  fit, 

Deprived  me  of  my  mate  ; 
And  left  me  sorrowing  and  forlorn 

To  prove  a  widow'd  state. 

Soon  tired  of  that  I  look/d  about, 

To  find  another  she ; 
Companion  for  myself,  and  who 

Would.rule  my  family. 

And  who  so  fit  as  my  first  love, 

The  serious  charge  to  take  ; 
And  where  among  her  sex,  could  I,. 

A  choice  more  prudent  make  ? 

I  came,  I  saw,  I  ask'd  consent, 

With  naught  to  intervene  ; 
Consent  she  gave  to  be  my  bride, 

To  be  my  little  Queen. 

And  now  behold,  on  yonder  shor& 

We  lead  a  tranquil  life  ; 
And  there  she  looks  to  end  her  days,. 

The  Poet's  happy  wife. 


PUFFING  . 
IMPORTANT!  ! !  TO  THE  AMATEURS  OF  THE  FINE  ARTS. 

Don  Emanuel,  Antonio  De  Biscarrolaso, 
No.  72  Wall-street, 

Takes  this  method  to  show  he's  a  finished  professor, 
As  a  Tonsor,  frizzeur,  or  in  English,  Hair-Dresser, 
And  that,  having  previously  sent  out  his  Card, 
He  has  gain'd  from  the  Ladies  and  Gents,  much  regard. 
For  which  he  expresses  a  grateful  emotion, 


56  THE  NEWS  CARRIER'S  ADDRESS. 

And  tenders  his  aid  with  all  needful  devotion ; 
Though  he  thinks  he  may  here  with  much  justice  insist,. 
That  he  spurns  at  the  name  of  a  vile  egotist. 
Yet  his  merit,  though  some  may  be  ignorant  of  it, 
And  as  he  by  it  wishes  each  one  may  profit ; 
Imperiously  forces,  or  like  it  or  lump  it, 
Himself,  honest  fellow,  to  blow  his  own  trumpet. 
His  friends  and  the  public  he  therefore  informs, 
That  with  quacks  his  profession  is  crowded  in  swarms. 
But  their  arts  he  despises,  as  he,  modest  creature, 
Is  a  Tonsor  sans  art,  for  he  is  one  by  nature! 
And  he  those  endowments,  believe  him  the  fact  is, 
Has  improv'd  by  a  long  course  of  study  and  practice. 
As  from  Spain  he  came  o'er  I Aree.months  since  in  a  Brig, 
He  knows  the  true  cut  of  his  Majesty's  wig ; 
And  besides  he's  retain'd  in  his  head  with  much  care, 
The  curl  of  his  whiskers,  aye,  e'en  to  a  hair ! 
And  though  to  your  heads  not  a  hair  now  attaches, 
He'll  supply  you  with  mammoth  or  some  other  scratches. 
But  among  his  perfections,  which  all  must  admire, 
He  ranks  his  attention  to  please  you  much  higher, 
Besides  he  convinces  the  most  careless  gazers, 
That  the  phiz  is  improv'd  by  his  tongs  and  his  razors ; 
But  in  this  his  abilities  have  not  been  wanted, 
For  on  his  own  word,  you  may  take  it  for  granted, 
That  his  practice  has  hitherto  been  among  faces, 
Too  good  to  admit  of  his  polish  and  graces  !  !  [ 


THE  NEWS  CARRIER  S  NEW  YEAR  S  ADDRESS  TO  HIS  PA 
TRONS,  1828. 

One  night  I  dream'd  I  learned  the  Printer's  trade, 
Or  occupation,  as  I  might  have  said ; 
And  furthermore  methought  a  brother  chip, 
Enter'd  my  window  with  a  sudden  skip ; 
Fast  by  my  side  he  stood  :  good !  good  !  he 
One  way  or  other  still  you  help  the  trade. 


THE  NEWS  CARRIER'S  ADDRESS.  5? 

While  some  from  care,  in  sleep,  find  sweet  release, 

You  furnish  copy  for  Hal's  New  Year's  piece. 

Come  let  us  hear  how  far  you  have  progress'd, 

And  how  repaid  you  for  your  want  of  rest ! 

"  While  snugly  seated  round  the  enlivening  fire, 

Bless'd  with  each  comfort  which  your  hearts  desire  ; 

Say  can  you  deem  fond  Hal's  intention  rude, 

One  moment  on  your  patience  to  intrude  ? 

That  he  intends  to  tell  you,  don't  suppose 

In  plaintive  accents  of  unreal  woes  j 

This  thought's  removed  far  from  his  honest  heart, 

He  scorns  to  act  a  vile  deceiver's  part." 

"Now  this  reads  well,  your  verse  sounds  wond'rous 

mellow, 

But  let  me  tell  you  Hal's  a  pleasant  fellow  ; 
And  knows  the  views  and  wishes  of  his  patrons, 
Differ  as  wide  as  maidens  do  from  matrons. 
What  would  you  then  ?  no  plan  is  sketch'd  by  Hal, 
To  make  his  piece,  or  grave,  or  comical. 
Now  mark  me  well,  and  don't  mistake,  my  Boy, 
But  keep  a  steady  eye  on  Hal's  employ. 
Aye,  now  I  think  your  meaning  well  I  ken, 
See  how  it  drops  so  freely  from  my  pen  ! 
You'd  have  me  say,  '  Kind  Patrons  once  a  year, 
With  gladsome  heart  I  at  your  doors  appear, 
To  say  your  papers  I  have  left  each  week ;     . 
And  a  small  tribute  now  I  come  to  seek  L 
Indeed  I  almost  claim  it  as  my  due, 
Upon  reflection  you  must  think  so  too. 
For  think  the  day  such  freedom  must  excuse, 
This  New  Year  is — can  any  then  refuse  ? 
This  once  let  gen'rous  action  bear  the  sway, 
You  can  to  Hal  make  this  a  happy  day  ; 
Then  shall  he,  sway'd  by  gratitude  profound, 
Make  merry  New  Year  in  your  ears  resound, 
And  thus  express  the  feelings  of  his  heart :: 
Kind  friends — hear  these  good  wishes  ere  we  part," 
Till  now  I  took  you  for  a  man  of  sense, 
And  deem'd  you  guiltless  of  such  high  offence ; 


98  THE  NEWS  CARRIER'S  ADDRESS. 

Against  the  laws  which  composition  aims, 

To  keep  infracted  from  perversion's  claims." 

"  Oh  had  I  ScUm's*  mind  and  Selim's  fire, 

I  would  be  ev'ry  thing  you  could  desire  ; 

Selim,  my  love,  thou  art  a  princely  printer^ 

Outshining  me  as  summer  does  the  winter  !" 

"Eh  man — what  has  the  eagle  wing'd  Se-lim, 

To  do  with  you,  or  you  to  do  with  him  ? 

Why  vex  me  thus  ?  your  sense  I  say  is  stuff, 

All  that  Hal  wants  is  '  nummi  quantum  suff.' 

Grant  it — and  yet,  without  intent  to  offend, 

You  have  begun  just  where  you  ought  to  end. 

Would  you  advise  me  then  to  play  the  trickster, 

And  make  what's  quaintly  call'd  a  hixter  mixter? 

Certes,  you're  right,  the  Paper  is  your  mark, 

There  frisk  and  carrol  like  a  meadow  lark  ! 

Imprimis  then,  don't  fail  to  mention  Greece, 

Or  Hal  most  surely  will  reject  your  piece. 

That  Greece  whose  classic  soil  so  oft  I've  trod, 

With  Homer,  Xenophon  and  Hesiod  ? 

How  chang'd,  how  altered  from  thy  former  state, 

Thou  'rt  little  now,  though  once  they  call'd  thee  Great  /t 

But  thy  long  agony  will  soon  be  o'er, 

And,  Turk  Ibrahim  waste  thy  plains  no  more. 

And,  when,  in  peace  thou  sitt'st  beneath  thy  vine, 

Then  think  my  country  was  a  friend  of  thine." 

Enough  of  her  thou'st  giv'n  old  Greece  her  due, 

Now  of  her  master  Turk  let's  hear  a  few. 

"  Long  had  the  Turk  rul'd  o'er  fair  Grecia's  land, 

And  sway'd  his  sceptre  with  an  iron  hand  ; 

And  did  her  sons  but  murmur  and  complain, 

Then  still  more  galling  made  the  Turk  her  chain, 

Till  Nature's  point  was  pass'd,  when  lo  !  she  rose 

In  all  her  vengeance  on  her  cruel  foes. 

Yet  had  they  crush'd  her  with  their  barb'rous  might, 

And  hurl'd  her  headlong  to  eternal  night ; 

But  other  lands  beheld  with  pitying  eyes, 

.Her  wasting  strength,  and  heard  her  piercing  cries. 

*  Woodworth.  t  Magna  Grtecia. 


THE  NEWS  CARRIER'S  ADDREBS.    .  59 

Her  first  help  came,  all  on  the  briny  flood, 

And  Navarino  tells  a  tale  of  blood  ! 

From  his  cold  clime  the  Russian  came  at  length, 

And  hurl'd  his  gauntlet  with  resistless  strength. 

Now  feels  the  Turk,  and  to  his  cost  he  knows, 

They  are  no  triflers  who  his  rage  oppose  ; 

The  ball  may  err,  they  on  the  charge  depend ; 

This  brings  the  combat  to  a  speedy  end. 

But  on  the  Scimetar  -the  Turks  rely, 

And  strive  to  cut  the  faem'ral  artery. 

Then  life's  full  current  issues  from  each  woundj 

And  Turks  and  Russians  press  th'  ensanguined  ground* 

Accounts  assert,  with  slaughter  Varna's  taken, 

So  far  the  frontier  strength  of  Balkan's  shaken." 

"  Bravo,  my  Boy !  that's  your  true  tragic  style, 

And  almost  equals  Dr.  Mitchel's^/e. 

But  why  are  Turks  such  devils  when  in  battle  ?" 

"  Opium  they  chew  in  quantity,  like  cattle  ; 

And  then  their  Priests  assure  them  when  they  die 

They  shall  not  sink  below,  but  mount  on  high 

With  Heroes,  Houris,  Mahomet  to  dwell, 

Your  Turkish  Soldier  looks  for  Heaven — not  Hell. 

Fate  is  his  creed,  none  other  he  receives, 

Old  Homer's  doctrine  every  Turk  believes. 

But  is  it  true,  as  I  have  heard  it  hinted, 

They  write  their  works,  but  never  have  them  printed  ? 

Printers  on  Christians  value,  but  the  Turks — 

They're  your  true  patrons,  oh,  ye  needy  clerks  ! 

Which  choose  you  then,  or  Cit,  or  rustic  clown, 

The  Russian  pallium,  or  the  Turkish  gown  ? 

What  say  you  now  to  take  a  trip  to  Spain  ? 

Or  shall  we  pass  to  Pedro's  vast  domain. 

Pedro's  a  bad  man,  and  I  do  not  like  him, 

And  were  he  here,  I  really  b'lieve — I'd  strike  him  ; 

He  kick'd  his  wife  while  in  a  certain  state, 

Which  quickly  seal'd  in  death  her  mortal  fate. 

But  should  her  Sire  of  Austria  send  a  fleet, 

With  red  hot  balls  his  ports  and  shores  to  greet ; 

About  his  ears  he'd  kick  up  such  a  racket, 


60  THE  NEWS  CARRIER'S  ADDRESS. 

I  would  not  for  his  realm  be  in  his  jacket. 

Well,  there's  Mig'el,  pray  what  of  him  d'ye  think  ? 

Why,  that  he's  hardly  worth  the  waste  of  ink. 

Kingship  for  him  can  surely  have  no  charms, 

Whom  treason's  wiles  continually  alarms  ; 

What  love  or  duty  can  his  subjects  show, 

While  all  his  prisons  with  their  friends  o'erflow  ? 

E'en  England  too,  erst  his  decided  friend, 

Her  wonted  aid  no  longer  now  will  lend ; 

And  like  Belshazzar,  horribly  afraid, 

Mig'el  despairing,  cries  out,  '  I'm  betray'd !' 

And  now  that  I  had  Robertson's  balloon, 

To  waft  me  home  before  next  Monday  noon  ! 

Correct — let  who  will  censure  or  applaud, 

I  say  our  Country  calls  us  from  abroad  ; 

Gladly  let's  quit  that  chaos  of  events, 

Which  such  a  tissue  of  earth's  woes  presents. 

And  oh,  my  Country,  when  thy  state  I  view, 

I'd  call  thee  happy  if  thou  only  knew, 

Grateful  to  be  and  properly  to  prize, 

That  sweetest,  noblest  blessing  of  the  skies  ; 

Thy  blood-earn'd  boon — fair  Liberty  !  oh  may 

She  Heaven's  daughter  ever  with  us  stay ! 

Fled  are  the  scenes  of  sorrow  and  of  pity, 

Then  let's  pursue  the  vag'ries  of  our  City. 

Now,  by  the  by,  though  'tis  no  high  concern, 

I,  if  you  please,  from  you  would  wish  to  learn  : 

If  'tis  a  practice  with  your  author's  chaste, 

Or  if  'tis  only  a  mere  freak  of  taste  : 

First  to  treat  subjects  whose  import  is  grave, 

And  lighter  themes  until  their  end  to  save  ? 

'Tis  so  of  plays,  and  is  of  standing  long, 

First  comes  the  Goats,*  and  then  the  Village  song. 

Thou  speak'st  of  plays,  hast  ever  been  at  plays  ? 

Aye,  marry  have  I,  in  my  younger  days  ! 

Full  many  a  time  I've  been  at  old  John-street, 

And  there  have  quafFd  the  racy,  luscious  treat ; 

*  Tragos,  a  Goat ;  and  Hodai,  a  song. 
Koinai,  a  Village  ;  and  Hodai,  a  song. 


THE  NEWS  CARRIER'S  ADDRESS.  61 

Serv'd  by  the  rarest  actors  of  their  time, 
Garricks  and  Siddons  both  in  prose  and  rhyme. 
The  caustic  Hallam,  oft  I've  seen  him  feign 
The  Prince,  his  master-piece,  the  crazy  Dame  ; 
And  Hodgkinson,  though  not  in  person  light, 
Was  vastly  taking  in  the  Carmelite  ! 
And  Melmoth  too  created  heart-felt  joy, 
When  in  her  arms  she  clasp'd  her  Villeroy ! 
Tyler  would  almost  make  you  crack  your  cheeks, 
To  hear  him  sing  of  Renard  and  his  freaks. 
And  Mrs.  Johnson,  how  she  pleased  thetbeaus, 
When  she  appear'd  dress'd  in  our  sex's  clothes  ! 
Aye,  those  were  times  which  time  has  swept  away, 
And  the  same  fate  awaits  the  presenfttey  ! 
How  time's  progressions  all  of  us  affect, 
Young  men  look  forward,  old  men  retrospect ! 
Pray,  have  you  seen  the  Eidophusicon?* 
Part  of  the  way,  but  not  the  stage  upon. 
They  say  the  scenery's  imposing,  grand ! 
Surpassing  that  of  any  other  land  ! 
Then  has  New- York  without  the  least  contention, 
Strong  claims  t'excel  in  any  new  invention. 
Suppose  we  visit  next  the  Museum, 
And  see  the  sights,  both  dead,  and  deaf,  and  dumb. 
And  if  we  stop  at  Scudder's  in  rotation, 
We'll  see  the  largest  one  in  all  our  Nation  ! 
But  what  is  that,  which  whirls  and  whirls  again, 
I  mean  that  thing  within  yon  window's  pane  ? 
Brother,  for  shame,  you  surely  are  purblind, 
Read  but  the  motto,  and  its  use  you'll  find. 
Mercy,  what  sums,  what  splendid  lots  of  Cash, 
To  prop  the  House,  which  else  would  go  to  smash, 
Hark  !  heard  you  that  noise  ?  I  know  his  voice — 
7Twas  Hal's — quickly,  or  you  are  not  his  choice. 
"  Health  to  that  man,  whose  gen'rous  feeling  mind, 
By  virtue's  taught,  by  charity's  inclind. 
Long  may  he  live  to  taste  the  happy  fruits, 

"  Eido,  I  sec  ;  and  Phusis,  nature. 
F 


A  NATIONAL  SONG. 


Attending  always  virtuous  pursuits  ; 

When  here  he's  finish'd  all  his  works  of  love, 

May  Angels  hail  him  in  the  realms  above  !" 

Chip  snatch'd  the  paper,  through  the  window  flew, 

And  quick  as  lightning  vanish'd  from  my  view. 


FATE. THE    SENTIMENT    FROM    THE    REV.    TIMOTHY 

DWIGHT,  VERSIFIED. 

Say  what  is  fate  ?  and  hath  it  ne'er  occurr'd 
Unto  your  mind,  'tis  simply  but  a  word  ! 
What  is  its  meaning,  what  doth  it  imply  ? 
Why,  nothing,  sir,  methinks  I  hear  one  cry, 
Search  and  perceive,  then  tell  if  thou  canst  find, 
It  ever  other  meaning  had  in  thine  own  mind  ? 
But  meaning  give  it,  it  becomes  of  course 
God,  of  all  goodness  the  prolific  source  ! 


A  GRAND  NATIONAL  SONG  FOR  THE  FOURTH  OF  JULY  1814, 
RECITATIVE. 

The  serious  observer  discerns  without  doubt, 
That  the  vials  of  wrath  on  this  earth  are  pour'd  out ; 
^pr  the  sad  overturnings  in  different  climes, 
Speak  in  accents  of  thunder,  "the  signs  of  the  times." 
For  the  offspring  of  Ham,  and  his  good  brother  Shem, 
A  large  share  of  dire  wrath  has  been  pour'd  out  on  them, 
Next  the  storm  fell  on  Japheth,  from  Heav'n  offended, 
Cross'd  the  Atlantic,  and  on  us  too's  descended. 


Genius  of  our  native  land, 

Why  dost  thou  musing,  pensive  stand  ? 


A  NATIONAL  SONG.  63 

Why  dost  thou  not  on  this  glad  day, 

Bid  us  abound  in  sport  and  play  ? 

Columbia's  sons,  how  can  it  be 

Our  hearts  should  long  for  sport  and  glee  ; 

While  Heaven's  fierce  wrath  against  our  Nation  burns, 

And  land  and  seas,  drink  up  our  blood  by  turns  ? 

RECITATIVE. 

Now  those  who  in  anger  to  the  Jews  were  once  given, 

The  Kings,  in  Europa  by  jealousy  driven ; 

Quick  arouse  their  dread  legions,  and  spoil  her  repose, 

While  fell  tyrants  to  tyrants  the  battle  oppose. 

Britannia,  Hispania,  and  Portugal  here, 

Drive  the  French  swift  before  them  and  press  on  their 

rear. 

There  the  Russian,  and  Prussian,  and  Germanic  powers. 
Enter  Paris  in  triumph,  and  shout  "France  is  ours  !" 

AIR. 

Genius,  wherefore  all  this  strife, 

In  this  our  short  uncertain  life ; 

Why,  in  a  dire  relentless  mood, 

Do  Christians  spill  each  other's  blood  ? 

'Tis  passing  strange,  yet  it  is  so, 

That  man  to  man's  his  greatest  foe. 

Yet  know,  since  you  the  cause  of  wars  inquire, 

Ambition  plans,  oppression  lights  the  fire. 

RECITATIVE. 

If 'twas  folly  in  France,  though  with  armies  immense, 
To  offend  the  Sea's  mistress  on  any  pretense  ; 
Did  her  cries  about  Liberty,  nothing  avail, 
And  all  her  great  projects  eventually  fail; 
Then,  how  dare  our  Americans  lift  up  the  hand, 
To  smite  the  bold  Britons,  both  by  sea  and  by  land, 
Say  from  us  will  they  patiently  brook  this  disgrace  ; 
Or  indignantly  hurl  us  from  off  the  earth's  face  ? 


64  A  NATIONAL  SONS. 

AIR. 

Genius,  do  pray  tell  us  all, 

While  Nations- rise,  why  do  they  fall? 

Do  you  with  toil  and  vast  expense,. 

Amass  the  things  of  time  and  sense ; 

Why  wonder,  if  at  any  rate 

A  Nation  will  be  rich  and  great :. 

That  lux'ry  'gender'd  from  corruption's  heap, 

Should  plunge  her  headlong  down  Destruction's  steep i 

RECITATIVE. 

Let  our  Nation  be  good,  and  she's  nothing  to  fear, 
For  still  He  who  rules  armies  and  battles  is  near, 
To  protect  and  defend  all  who  on  him  rely, 
And  so  ive  may  the  world  and  old  Satan  defy. 
May  our  great  men  be  good  men,  and  all,  high  and  low, 
Prove  the  joys  that  fair  Virtue  alone  can  bestow; 
And  enjoy  each  return  of  this  day  thankfully, 
From  all  wars  and  commotions  for  ever  set  free. 


PROTOCOL    TO    ACCOMPANY    THE    FOREGOING    SONG. 

Now  what  is  this  mine  eyes  behold  ? 

Do  see  yon  Knight  in  black ; 
How  very  slow  he  jogs  along, 

And  then  his  reins,  how  slack  ! 

What  is  that  thing  roll'd  up  behind, 

All  on  his  saddle-tree  ? 
The  hist'ry  of  his  life  perhaps-, 

Or  horse's  pedigree. 

But  let's  accost  him  as  he  nears, 
And  learn  the  whole  affair  ; 


NAVAL  VICTORIES.  65 

"  Pray,  courteous  Knight,  where  journey est  thou, 
And  what's  thy  business  there  ?" 

"  My  name  is  Kelmonezer,  sirs, 

To  Philadelphia  fair;    . 
I'm  journeying  on  to  meet  the  Knights, 

Whom  Old  school  summoned  there." 

"  Oh,  sir,  a  month's  already  pass'd, 

Your  journey's  "all  in  vain  ; 
Twelve  Knights  were  there,  and  fought  it  out, 

And  have  gone  home  again." 

"  But  still  I  trust  I'm  not  too  late  ; 

Unless  my  mem'ry's  wong , 
Oldschool  in  his  Portfolio  said 

Each  left  behind  a  song. 

And  further,  he  finds  fault  with  all, 

And  reasons  doth  assign  ; 
As  how  they  want  some  qualities, 

Which  he  may  find  in  mine. 

So  gentle  sirs,  good  day  to  you, 

My  charger  wants  to  go ;" 
"  Success,  Sir  Knight ;  and  may  Oldschool 

On  you  the  prize  bestow." 


A  BIRD'S  EYE  VIEW  OF  OUR  LATE  NAVAL  VICTORIES,  1814. 

"  The  American  Sailor— In  battle  terrible,  in  victory  modest  and  hu 
mane."  Fifteenth  toast  at  the  Naval  Dinner  given  to  Lieutenant 
McCall  and  the  surviving  Officers  of  the  U.  S.  Brig  Enterprise, 
Charleston,  15th  October,  1813. 

Near  eighteen  months  of  war  have  roll'd  away — 
What  then  ?  hear  what  the  Poet  has  to  say  ! 

F* 


"  The  Summer's  past,  and  Winter  in  his  place^ 

Comes  on  with  dreary  and  with  turgid  face  ;. 

With  all  his  train  of  frost,  and  hail,  and  snow, 

And  weary  troops  to  winter-quarters  go." 

Mark  ye,  he  speaks  of  war  !  now  he  proceeds — 

"  Muse,  tune  thy  lay,  and  chant  those  val'rous  deeds, 

Of  late  achier'd  against  that  haughty  nation, 

Who  fighting  makes  her  daily  occupation ; 

Those  deeds,  which  lift  my  Country  to  the  skies, 

And  fill  the  distant  nations  with  surprise  ! 

Yet  for  minutiae,  be  the  task  assign'd 

To  some  more  daring,  persevering  mind ;, 

Be  thou  content  in  generals  to  deal, 

In  admonition  and  abrupt  appeal. 

Say  then,  what  think  those  swagg'ring  Britons  now, 

How  can  they  bear  to  Yankee  tars  to  bow  ? 

*  Oh,  shame,  they  cry,  '  oh  death  and  foul  disgrace, 

To  be  thus  beaten  by  a  mushroom  race !' 

Say  how  each  member  at  St..  James's  feels, 

While  Sloops  and  Frigates  must  be  dash'd  from  SteeleV 

Won't  the  proud  tyrants  learn,  that  Yankee  tats. 

Are  men,  while  fighting  under  thirteen  stars  ? 

The  Gurriere,  Java,  Macedonian  stout, 

The  Boxer,  Frolic,  Peacock,  past  all  doubt, 

Prove  that  if  Britain  yield  the  Trident's  sway, 

Twon't  be  to  France,  but  to  America ! 

Now  she  the  difFrence  feels  'twixt  bond  and  free^. 

Who  fights  for  tyrants  or  for  Liberty  ! 

Confess,  old  Erie,  how  Columbia's  sons, 

On  thy  broad  bosom  hush'd  proud  Britain's  guns  ; 

Tell  how,  if  aught  thou  dost  delight  in  jokes, 

With  their  long  Toms  they  bored  the  Royal  Oaks  r 

Till  fainting  Britons,  spite  of  native  pride, 

Struck  to  brave  Perry  and  for  quarter  cried. 

And  thou,  Ontario,  like  thy  sister  Lake, 

With  British  thunder  hast  been  made  to  quake  ; 

But  though  they  labor'd  with  their  utmost  skill, 

They  could  not  compass  all  thy  fish  to  kill ; 

A  strong  ribb'd  Pike,  with  Chauncey  on  his  back 


NAVAL  VICTORIES.  76 

Where'er  he  pleases  holds  his  fearless  track, 

And  not  a  Wolf,  nor  yet  a  Royal  George, 

Has  strength  or  courage  this  same  Pike  to  gorge. 

Chauncey,  move  on,  don't  give  the  contest  o'er, 

Till  Lake  Ontario's  ours  on  either  shore. 

And  may  the  prowling  foe  on  the  Champlainv 

To  take  thy  fleet  find  all  his  efforts  vain ; 

Be,  it  McDonnough,  thine  this  Lake  to  guard, 

A  grateful  Nation  shall  thy  toils  reward. 

To  you,  brave  Sailors,  now  the  Muse  appeals, 

And  asks  each  son  of  freedom  if  he  feels 

Relentless  hatred  throbbing  hi  his-  veins, 

Towards  the  poor  foe  o'er  whom  he  conquest  gains  * 

Ah  no  !  methinks  a  gallant  tar  replies, 

I  am  a  man,  no  Demon  in  disguise ! 

'Tis  not  for  thirst  of  blood  thy  sailor  fights  ; 

'Tis  for  his  own,  and  for  his  Country's  rights, 

Name  you  in  all  those  fights  you've  sung  just  now,. 

One  single  act  to  brand  with  shame  his  brow.. 

But  if  kind  Heav'n  design'd  each  Nation  free, 

To  pass  and  repass  o'er  the  subject  sea  ; 

Shall  impious  Britain  with  strong  hands  arrest, 

And  pluck  from  any  this  high  Heaven's  bequest  ^ 

And  won't  our  high  ton'd  Independent  Nation, 

Raise  her  bold  crest  against  such  usurpation  ? 

Or  shall  the  foe  her  free-born  sons  detain, 

To  fight  th'  oppressor's  battles  on  the  main ; 

Abused,  insulted  in  his  floating  graves, 

Like  his  own  black,  kidnapp'd,  West  Indian  slaves  ; 

Or  forc'd  by  men  filPd  with  demoniac  ire, 

On  their  own  blood  the  murd'rous  gun  to  fire. 

Who,  says  the  Muse,  such  flagrant  deeds  approves  ?' 

For  lo,  with  grief,  her  swelling  bosom  moves ; 

She  mourns  the  lot  of  those  she  loves  so  dear, 

And  o'er  their  fate  she  drops  the  sorrowing  tear. 

But  British  hearts  more  o&durate  than  steel, 

By  other  weapons  must  be  made  to  feel," 

For  them,  there's  no  such  Logic  in  the  world, 

As  Yankee  balls^from  Yankee  cannon  hurl'd,. 


68  STRIPED  BUNTING. 

Then  messmates  come,  with  Heaven  on  our  side, 
We'll  dash  again  Old  England's  "  wooden  pride ;" 
Unless  her  Hellborn  practice  she'll  repress, 
And  grant  our  Seamen  that  long  sought  redress  ; 
Which  now  they  claim,  and  must  and  will  obtain, 
Or  sweep  her  boasted  Navy  from  the  main. 


A    NATION  S    GROANS. 


Hear  ye,  hear  all  the  world,  old  Albion's  groans, 
How  her  lost  Naval  honors  she  bemoans  ; 
And  loud  proclaims,  spite  of  her  Lion  heart, 
Columbia's  touch'd  her  in  her  "  vital  part ." 


DISTICH FOR  ONE  OF  THE  COFFINS  OR  BOXES  AT  THE 

BURIAL  OF  THE  REVOLUTIONARY   BONES  ON  LONU 
ISLAND,  A.  D.,  1808. 

Tremble — ye  Tyrants,  dread  the  gathering  storm, 
While  freemen,  freemen's  obsequies  perform ! 


"  AMERICA'S  FEW  YARDS  OF  STRIPED  BUNTING.' 

How  insulting,  how  affronting, 
See  with  stars  the  striped  bunting, 
How  gallantly  aloft  it  floats 
From  the  tall  masts  of  Yankee  boats, 
And  darts  defiance  and  disdain, 
At  the  proud  mistress  of  the  main. 

Yankee  sailors,  ye  have  senses, 

Courtesies  are  not  offences, 

Have  the  button  nation  shown  them  ? 


DISAPPOINTMENT.  69 

Yes,  but  they're  asham'd  to  own  them  ! 
Yet  you  still  may  hear  them  grunting, 
At  the  stars  and  striped  bunting. 

Yankee  sailors,  ye  have  brothers, 
They  have  fathers,  wives,  and  mothers  ! 
How  d'ye  think  they  now  are  faring, 
See,  the  lash  their  back  is  tearing, 
Would  that  they  the  seas  were  hunting, 
'Neath  the  stars  and  striped  bunting  ! 

Tars,  ahead,  the  time  is  nearing, 
Into  strength  our  Country's  steering, 
Her  battle  ships  each  state  shall  bring ; 
And  make  the  seas  with  thunder  ring, 
Britain,  look  out  for  Yankee  tars, 
Under  their  bunting  and  their  stars  I 


THE  DISAPPOINTMENT,  OR  PROTEGE  VS.  PATRON. 

There  lived  a  Clerk  in  Albany, 

His  name  was  Kelmonezer, 
He  wrote  for  Gubernator  there, 

A  man  of  high  degree,  sir. 

In  his  employ,  full  twenty  months, 
Did  this  same  Clerk  remain ; 

And  toil'd  in  doors,  or  trudg'd  about, 
Through  snow,  and  hail,  and  rain. 

'Twas  at  the  time  when  British  fleets 
Were  hanging  on  our  coast; 

And  British  armies  on  our  lines,  • 
A  most  terrific  host ! 

But  soon  a  ship  from  Europe  comes, 
And  quick  is  brought  on  shore 


70  DISAPPOINTMENT. 

The  news,  that  England  now,  and  we, 
Are  enemies  no  more. 

Post  haste  away  to  Washington, 

Despatches  nimbly  went ; 
The  President  the  treaty  sign'd, 

The  Senate  gave  consent. 

What  baleful  star  did  then  arise, 

Just  at  that  joyous  hour; 
On  Kelmonezer's  prospects  fair, 

With  sick'ning  gloom  to  lower. 

For  Gubernator  from  that  time, 
Appear'd  in  mind  quite  chang'd ; 

As  though  the  peace  with  mischief  fraught, 
Had  all  his  plans  derang'd. 

.    Now  Kelmonezer  saw  with  grief, 

His  Patron's  alter'd  mind  ; 
But  dream'd  not  to  his  Protege 
It  boded  aught  unkind. 

For  when  upon  a  certain  night, 

He  was  in  pleasant  mood ; 
And  Kelmonezer,  with  the  mail 

Before  his  presence  stood. 

Said  he,  "  unto  your  letter,  I 

To-morrow  will  attend ;" 
And  Kelmonezer  thought  he  could. 

Upon  his  word  depend. 

And  of  a  certain  man*  he  spoke, 
Who  New- York's  Council  guides  ; 

And  o'er  her  as  Chief  Magistrate, 
Reluctantly  presides. 

*  John  Ferguson,  Esqr. 


DISAPPOINTMENT.  71 

"Say,  can't  this  man  procure  a  place 

For  an  old  College  friend;" 
"  Oh  yes,"  says  Kelmonezer,  "  if 

By  me  a  line  you'll  send." 

"Not  so,"  said  Gubernator,  "  no, 

To  him,  myself  I'll  speak ; 
"  I  won't  desert  you,  do  not  fear, 

I'll  be  in  York  next  week." 

He  came  to  Town,  'tis  very  true, 

And  he  return'd  again ; 
Poor  Kelmonezer  for  a  place 

Has  look'd,  but  look'd  in  vain. 

Yet  still  one  thing  is  passing  strange 

In  Kelmonezer's  eye ; 
That  Gubernator  seems  of  late 

Of  him  so  wond'rous  shy  ! 

What  has  he  done,  or  left  undone, 

To  be  pass'd  by  so  slightly, 
Is  he  in  manners  so  uncouth, 

Or  person  so  unsightly  ? 

But  something  whispers  softly,  in 

His  all  attentive  ear ; 
"  Men  often  change,  and  seldom  are 

What  they  would  fain  appear. 

"  They  often  faint  and  step  aside, 

And  weary  in  well  doing ; 
Did  you  ne'er  see  a  man  at  night, 

A  meteor  pursuing  ?" 

Then  why  should  we  indulge  regrets 

For  what  we  cannot  mend ; 
Why  chide  ourselves  if  wilfully 

We  have  not  wrong'd  our  friend? 


73  MAJOR  GEN.  PORTER. 

Perhaps  some  future  event  may 
His  sympathies  revive ; 

When  he  unto  your  interests  shall, 
Be  perfectly  alive ! 

.A  nd  so  it  chanc'd,  it  was  not  long, 
'Twas  Gubernator's  work ; 

A  school-mate  Kelmonezer  chose, 
For  both  their  sakes,  his  Clerk. 

Nor  did  his  friendship  end  in  this, 

But  all  his  after  days 
He  Kelmonezer  did  befriend, 

Who  writes  this  to  his  praise. 


TO    MAJOR   GENERAL   PETER    B.    PORTER. 

Porter,  attend,  with  thine  ambiguous  name, 

The  Muse  now  greets  the  val'rous  son  of  fame  ; 

Nor  fear  she  will,  and  style  herself  thy  friend, 

With  fulsome  flattery  thy  chaste  ear  offend. 

No — let  our  Senates  while  thine  acts  they  read, 

Of  praise  on  thee  bestow  a  copious  meed. 

Or  add,  to  give  it  more  substantial  weight, 

A  sword,  or  service  all  of  massy  plate ; 

Or  else  to  make  thee  of  still  greater  note, 

Let  a  brevet  to  higher  rank  promote. 

Thou  didst  deserve  one  well,  and  I  was  glad, 

When  on  that  day  in  winter  vestments  clad 

I  from  Excelsior  bore  you  from  his  hand, 

And  put  in  yours,  what  like  a  magic  wand 

Rais'd  you  in  rank,  and  placed  you  one  step  higher, 

And  gave  you  all  you  justly  could  desire. 

Skinner's  could  tell  had  it  a  tongue  to  speak, 

Oh  yes,  that  day  stood  first  of  all  the  week. 

I  too,  by  proxy,  first  or  after  soon 

A  Major  dubb'd  the  gallant  Darby  Noon ; 


RARITAN  LANDING.  73 

But  he  has  gone  and  left  us  here  behind, 

To  brave  the  billows  of  a  world  unkind ; 

Excelsior,  too,  has  bid  us  all — "  good  by," 

And  shortly  we  and  all  of  us  must  die  ! 

Yes,  we  with  them  must  shoot  the  gulf  of  time, 

And  pass  to  meet  them  in  another  clime. 

But  are  we  solac'd  by  this  cheering  thought, 

We  have  not  lived,  nor  will  we  die  for  naught? 

The  place  where  last  I  saw  thee  I  could  name, 

In  visage  alter'd,  but  of  heart  the  same ; 

There  thou  didst  soothe  with  accents  bland  and  kind, 

The  throbbing  tumult  of  my  burden'd  mind. 

Porter,  I  thank  thee,  thou  wast  truly  good, 

When  of  thy  friendship  most  in  need  I  stood 

Thou  didst  release  my  truant,  headstrong  son, 

To  use  his  trade,  and  to  resign  his  gun. 

And  when  his  Colonel  for  his  friend  he  knew, 

7Twas  I,  his  father,  told  him  it  was  you. 

Porter,  whate'er  thine  enemies  may  say, 

I  say,  I  can't,  but  yet,  my  friend,  I  pray, 

"May  Heav'n  reward  thee  in  the  coming  day !" 


RARITAN    LANDING, A    POEM, 

Or  reminiscences,  on  a  late  visit  to  my  native  Village  in  New  Jersey. 

Oft  have  I  strove  in  true  poetic  strain, 

To  treat  of  rural  things,  but  all  in  vain ; 

Rear'd  in  a  city  there  condemn'd  to  toil, 

Far  from  the  beauties  of  my  native  soil, 

My  thoughts  to  bus'ness,  calculation  turn'd, 

My  daily  bread  by  labor  to  be  earn'd, 

While  cares  domestic  occupied  my  time, 

And  left  but  little,  when  at  home  for  rhyme. 

Yet  oft  to  thee  has  fond  remembrance  ran, 

My  own,  my  long  forsaken  Raritan. 

Climb'd  up  thy  hills,  or  o'er  thy  meadows  stray'd 


74  RARITAN  LANDING. 

And  view'd  thy  river  through  a  neighb'ring  glade. 
O'er  all  thy  soil,  or  cloth'd  in  green  or  white, 
I've  rang'd  again  with  pleasure  and  delight. 
Since  then  full  half  a  century  has  fled, 
Lo,  all  my  kindred  number'd  with  the  dead  ! 
Or  some  have  quit  thee  for  another  State — 
And  then  the  change  in  ancient  friends  how  great  I 
I'll  see  no  more  each  well-remember'd  face. 
They're  gone,  succeeded  by  another  race, 
Who,  on  my  visit  view'd  me  with  surprise, 
As  one  just  newly  fallen  from  the  skies — 
Ah,  little  thought  those  wond'ring  youngsters  then, 
I  trod  that  ground  before  their  sires  were  men  ! 
Who  oft  with  me,  with  line  and  pole  in  hand 
Drew  silv'ry  fishes  from  thy  stream  to  land — 
Just  there  their  sons  I  saw — thy  bridge  cross'd  o'er 
All  silent  angling  on  thy  sandy  shore. 
Now  for  some  converse  with  the  boys  methought — 
"What  sport  my  lads,  how  many  have  you  caught  ?"' 
Quick  was  the  answer  from  each  little  he — 
All  rais'd  their  strings  and  cried,  "see,  Uncle,  see  !'' 
Uncle  !  how  grateful  on  my  ear  it  fell 
Some  may  conceive,  for  me,  I  cannot  tell. 
Sympathy  call  it,  or  what  you  like  best, 
A  social  feeling  planted  in  the  breast. 
Let  kindness  but  the  pleasing  touch  impart, 
How  sweet  it  vibrates  on  the  human  heart. 
Thus  moralizing  with  myself  I  talk'd, 
,    While  up  the  road  full  leisurely  I  vvalk'd. 
And  sought  those  houses  once  again  to  view, 
Which  now  are  gone,  nor  yet  replaced  by  new  ; 
Naked  I  saw  thy  road  on  either  side, 
As  newly  swept  by  Spring's  destructive  tide — 
Blair,  Kip,  and  Auten,  Brimer,  Bowers,  none — 
And  are  none  left  ?  no  not  one  mother's  son  ! 
Next  Dixon's,  then  the  house  of  brick  and  wood 
Left  naught  to  show  where  either  once  had  stood — 
My  grandsire's  then,  where  strangers  now  reside, 
There,  Connet's  house  was  on  the  other  side — 


RARITAN  LANDING.  75 

There  Bray's  and  Field's,  and  round  the  corner  Flat's, 

He  who  supplied  the  villagers  with  hats. 

Now  on  the  hill  there  stands  the  house  in  view, 

The  house  in  which  my  earliest  breath  I  drew — 

The  way  up  easy,  I  the  hill  ascend, 

And  there  receive  the  greetings  of  a  friend — 

Roughead  the  sailor,  now  with  years  grown  gray. 

Ah  Bill !  full  many  a  year  has  roll'd  away, 

Since  first  you  sail'd  with  Chivers  o'er  the  main, 

From  Dublin's  City"  to  New  York  again. 

Greetings  exchanged,  I  left  old  Bill's  abode, 

And  steer'd  my  course  for  Letson's  up  the  road. 

Th'  old  fashion'd  house  I  saw  ahead  quite  plain 

Where  dwelt  my  sister  Phebe's  daughter  Jane. 

Welcom'd  by  Letson,  in  his  friendly  way, 

And  press'd  with  him  the  coming  night  to  stay, 

I  might  have  stay'd,  my  time — "  excuse  me — no, 

Good  by  good  folks" — so  down  the  road  I  go. 

Pass  P-oole's  two  houses,  then  within  the  nook, 

The  elder  Letson's  near  the  willow  brook — 

Churchward  was  gone — then  French's  on  the  left, 

Long  since  by  death  of  its  first  head  bereft — 

A  stranger-farmer  occupies  his  fields, 

His  Farm  now  wheat  instead  of  rye  grain  yields — 

There  he  was  mowing  just  abreast  the  fence  ; — 

I  stopp'd,  and  used  fatigue  for  a  pretence 

To  hold  some  convene — leaning  on  my  cane, 

Of  him  I  ask'd  what  had  become  of  Lane  ? 

And  truly,  I  without  pretence  might  say, 

I  felt  at  length  the  tedium  of  the  day. 

Early  that  morn  in  Brooklyn  I  arose, 

Now  forty  miles  I'd  travell'd  near  day's  close — 

Whistled  to  Brunswick  in  a  rail-road  car — 

A  two  miles'  walk,  besure  not  very  far — 

Yet  did  I  not,  nor  have  I  since  begrudg'd 

That  on  the  tow-path  I  those  two  miles  trudg'd — 

Ne'er  in  and  up  thy  stream  walk'd  I  before, 

O  Raritan  !  and  thus  may  walk  no  more. 

Oh,  it  was  pleasant  thus  to  walk  or  stand, 


76  RARITA^'  LAJ\DL\G. 

So  near  thy  midst  with  water  on  each  hand — 
But  Lane — aye  Lane — the  farmer  quick  replied — 
Why — Lane  is  gone — like  many  more  has  died. 
This  farm — 'twas  French's  once — pray  is  it  thine  ? 
I've  bought  it,  sir,  and  now  this  farm  is  mine. 
And  then  that  one,  from  there,  until  its  end  ? 
That  too  I've  bought — that  too  is  mine,  my  friend. 
That  farm  was  once  my  father's — and  I  there 
Spent  happy  days  devoid  of  toil  and  care, 
When  up  the  road,  near  to  the  store  of  Poole, 
I  went  to  learn  my  lesson  at  the  school ; 
That  must  have  been  before  this  world  I  sa\v 
If  from  your  face  true  inference  I  draw — 
Yes — more  than  half  a  century's  pass'd  o'err 
And  now  my  years  amount  to  near  three  score. 
I  left  the  man  to  mow  his  field  of  grain — 
And  soon  the  path,  and  then  the  road  regain. 
Forward  I  look,  but  yet  no  house  I  see — 
Nor  barn,  nor  choke-pear,  nor  a  locust  tree — 
No  barn,  no  house,  placed  in  the  hill  full  low — 
The  trees  had  fallen  by  the  woodman's  blow — 
But  on  the  hill  we  claim'd  one  little  space — 
All  unenclos'd — it  was  our  burial  place — 
No  tomb-stones  there  the  passing  stranger  show 
The  names  of  those  whose  bodies  sleep  below — 
Yet  there  is  One  above  who  knows  full  well 
The  place  where  their  immortal  spirits  dwell — - 
And  may  it  be,  when  I  am  call'd  to  die, 
My  body  here  in  this  lone  spot  shall  lie  ? 
Or  placed  near  strangers  far  from  hence  repose  ? 
'Tis  hid  from  me,  my  Maker  only  knows — 
Yet  why  should  this  cause  me  one  anxious  sigh> 
Or  when,  or  how,  or  in  what  place  I  die  ? 
My  Maker's  "faithful"  and  my  slumb'ring clay 
Shall  join  my  soul  to  meet  the  Judgment  day." 
Then  be  it  my  great  bus'ness  while  I  live, 
My  heart  to  him  without  reserve  to  give — 
With  fears  foreboding  I  shall  not  be  press'd^-* 
He  having  that  will  care  for  all  the  rest.. 


RARITAN  LANDING.  77 

This  lonely  spot  adjoin'd  a  rugged  hill, 

Along  whose  bsse  there  ran  a  purling  rill ; 

It  claim'd  a  spring  unfailing  for  its  source, 

And  to  the  river  urg'd  its  tortuous  course, 

On  its  small  meadow  rear'd  its  lofty  head, 

One  spreading  tree  with  apples  white  and  red — 

And  oft  those  apples,  wand'ring  there  alone — 

I've  caused  to  drop  with  either  stick  or  stone — 

And  on  that  meadow,  spread  o'er  all  the  ground, 

There  mentha  rose,  'twas  in  abundance  found, 

All  verdant,  fragrant  with  its  native  oil — 

Luxuriant  shooting  from  the  humid  soil — 

Nepeta,  too,  methinks  with  silv'ry  grace 

Spread  her  ribb'd  foliage  o'er  thy  smiling  face. 

And  on  the  hill  the  pudding  grass  display'd 

Its  gracile  stalk  whence  sprang  its  little  blade. 

What  though  no  beauteous  flower  thy  space  array'd, 

These  less  for  beauty  than  for  use  were  made. 

Beyond  the  rill  there  num'rous  fruit  trees  stood 

Once  own'd  and  planted  by  old  Doctor  Hood — 

He's  gone,  and  his  successor  too — what  sith, 

He  there  resided,  known  as  English-Smith, 

And  in  that  place  I  did  delight — yea  love — 

To  chase  from  tree  to  tree  the  turtle-dove. 

No  more  I'd  chase  her  at  this  time  remote, 

But  list'ning  sit  and  hear  her  plaintive  note. 

Yet  other  music  courts  my  list'ning  ear, 

I  must  be  gone,  no  longer  linger  here. 

The  sun  declining,  seeks  his  walery  bed ; 

And  shows  how  time  on  rapid  wings  has  fled. 

Admonish'd  thus  my  steps  I  now  retrace,  ; 

And  on  the  way  to  Brunswick  turn  my  face. 

Still  sparser  now  the  population  grew — 

And  to  the  bridge  the  houses  were  but  few — • 

Their  ancient  tenants,  lived  they  there  or  not, 

I  could  not  tell — or  dead  and  long  forgot— 

This  road  to  walk  was  never  my  delight, 

Lonesome  by  day  and  dreary  in  the  night ; 

But  I,  as  I  had  nothing  here  to  dread, 


78  RARITAN  LANDING. 

Dismiss'd  my  thoughts  and  sent  them  on  ahead — 
And  journeying  on,  Probasct/s  brook  I  near'd, 
(And  on  the  hill  the  Miller's  house  appear'd)— 
This  pass'd,  I  gain  with  hasty  steps  once  more 
The  bridge,  which  I  had  cross'd  so  oft  before — 
No  more  the  freshet  moves  it  from  its  place, 
Russell  has  fix'd  it  on  too  firm  a  base. 
Cross'd  o'er,  I  come  with  a  keen  appetite 
To  where  I  mean  to  sup  and  spend  the  night. 
The  morning  dawns,  I  rise  refresh'd  by  sleep, 
And  now  prepare  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep ; 
And  thrice  that  day  I  to  the  church  repair — 
I  love  to  visit  at  the  house  of  pray'r. 
My  bus'ness  done,  next  day  I  take  my  leave 
And  Raritan  in  the  Napoleon  cleave. 
Farewell  my  Raritan — Brunswick  adieu, 
No  more,  perhaps,  thy  streets  I'll  travel  through — 
Yet,  when  I've  safely  cross'd  the  watery  deep, 
I  both  of  you  will  in  remembrance  keep. 
Onward  we  move,  while  all  delighted  seem 
To  glide  so  swiftly  o'er  the  crooked  stream, 
While  on  the  right,  hills  their  attraction  lend, 
There  on  the  left,  salt  meadows  far  extend, 
Fill'd  with  mosquitoes  and  their  nightly  din, 
Their  stings  so  pois'ness  to  the  human  skin. 
Implanted  poles  now  show  their  beacon  heads 
To  warn  the  boatmen  of  the  oyster  beds, 
Which  there  submers'd,  if  not  avoided,  might 
Detain  by  day,  or  injure  in  the  night, 
Once  with  my  father  and  his  friends,  my  lot 
It  was,  one  fall  to  visit  this  same  spot. 
Our  skiffs  were  anchor'd,  here  we  rested  all, 
And  patient  waited  till  the  tide  should  fall, 
Which  falling  leaves  them  bare,  and  us  the  powV 
To  pick  the  oysters  for  about  one  hour. — 
For  at  that  season  blows  a  strong  north  wind — 
By  which  the  tide  to  Prince's  Bay's  confin'd 
And  now  begins  a  most  industrious  strife, 
And  all  are  picking  as  it  were  for  life — 


THE  STANDING  COLOR.  79 

Soon  would  the  tide  its  wonted  strength  regain, 

And  rushing  upward  cover  all  the  plain. 

This  well  we  knew,  and  strove  to  load  each  boat ; 

The  tide  comes  in,  and  we  begin  to  float. 

'Tis  time  to  quit,  nor  longer  here  abide — 

Homeward  we  move  assisted  by  the  tide. 

The  boys  pull  on  with  strong  and  steady  strokes, 

The  men  amuse  them  with  their  laugh  and  jokes — 

Arriv'd,  the  wind  may  blow  from  north  or  east, 

We  care  not,  we're -provided  with  a  feast. 

But  now  we  stop,  arriv'd  at  Amboy's  dock, 

And  in  and  out  the  passengers  soon  flock, 

Then  move  the  wheels,  and  we  pass  mile  by  mile 

Along  the  pleasant  shores  of  Stalen's  Isle. 

Now  leave  the  Kills,  and  cross  the  New  York  bay 

And  safe  arriv'd  near  Castle  Garden  lay — 

Then  spring  ashore  and  through  the  streets  we  roam, 

For  each  is  anxious  to  be  found  at  home. 


THE    STANDING    COLOR    OF    THE    DAY. 

Friend,  if  thou  canst,  for  once,  I  prithee  say, 
What  is  the  standing  color  of  the  day  ? 
Oh,  sir,  'tis  obvious  to  the  merest  clown, 
It  is  not  red ;  nay,  truly,  it  is  "  Brown  /" 

. 


WE    ARE    NOT    REPROBATED    WHILE    THE    HOLY    SPIRIT 
STRIVES    WITH    US. 

Why  dost  thou  mourn  departed  time  ? 
The  old  man  sigh'd,  "  I've  pass'd  my  prime." 
And  see  life's  winter  deeply  now, 
Imprinted  on  my  wrinkled  brow  ; 
In  characters  that  all  may  spell, 
Deep  struck,  my  son,  indelible. 


80  THE  ORPHAN'S  ADDRESS. 

Nay,  sigh  not  thus,  to  pass  thy  prime 
Is  but  thy  lot,  and  not  thy  crime  ; 
Short  is  the  space  allow'cl  to  man 
To  roam  o'er  earth — 'tis  but  a  span. 
But  how  hast  thou  thy  time  improv'd 
Nearer  is  Heav'n  or  more  remov'd  ? 
Ah  that  reflection  pains  my  heart, 
I  from  the  grave  with  horror  start ; 
When  I  look  back  then  flow  my  tears, 
To  think  of  sins  of  former  years. 
Courage,  old  man,  thou  hast  the  sign, 
The  Lord  still  loves  that  soul  of  thine. 
He  hath  not  sworn  with  uprais'd  hand, 
To  thrust  thee  from  the  promis'd  land  ; 
His  Spirit  strives  and  points  the  way, 
To  lead  thee  to  eternal  day. 


THE  ORPHAN  S  ADDRESS  TO  THE  PATRONS  AND  TRUSTEES 
OF  A  CERTAIN  RELIGIOUS  INSTITUTION  FOR  THE  EDU 
CATION  OF  POOR  CHILDREN,  IN  THE  CITY  OF  NEW 
YORK. 

The  radiant  Sun  with  golden  beams, 

Illum'd  my  natal  morn ; 
When  my  glad  father  heard  it  said, 

To  him  a  son  was  born. 

What  pleasing  thoughts  roll'd  through  his  breast, 

When  first  he  saw  my  face ; 
And  with  what  rapt'rous  joy  he  held 

Me  in  his  fond  embrace  ? 

Uprais'd  to  Heav'n  his  streaming  eyes, 

He  plied  Jehovah's  throne  ; 
Prais'd  his  Omniscience  first, — 0  God  ! 

To  thee  all  things  are  known. 


THE  ORPHAN'S  ADDRESS.  81 

This  thine  own  gift  to  me  a  worm, 

I  thankfully  accept  ; 
Now  grant  that  he  from  Sin's  fell  power, 

May  by  thy  power  be  kept. 

Oh  let  thy  grace,  through  thine  own  Son, 

Into  his  heart  distil ; 
And  to  thyself  subdue,  in  youth, 

His  native  stubborn  will. 

* 

And  if  to  him,  in  wisdom,  thou 

Decree'st  a  length  of  days  ; 
Oh  let  thy  goodness  always  keep 

His  feet  in  "  Wisdom's  ways." 

Then  whatsoe'er  may  him  betide 

In  this  dark  vale  of  tears  ; 
Thy  promise  to  the  righteous  seed 

Shall  quiet  all  my  fears. 

Thus  he — and  to  my  mother's  arms 

Restored  her  future  care  ; 
And  did,  with  grateful  heart,  unto 

His  daily  toil  repair. 

Under  his  kind  paternal  roof 

I  lived  from  year  to  'year ; 
And  in  this  place  the  gospel  heard, 

With  you  my  patrons  dear. 

But  greedy  Death,  who  all  our  race 

Counts  as  his  lawful  prey ; 
With  summons  short  to  his  pale  realms, 

My  father  call'd  away. 

How  could  my  widow'd  mother  then 

Her  heavy  charge  maintain  ? 
For  this  she  strove,  yet,  oh  alas  ! 

Her  striving  found  in  vain. 


THE  ORPHAN'S  ADDRESS. 

And  must,  she  cried,  this  son  of  mine. 

Who  erst  such  promise  gave, 
For  want  of  learning  be  brought  up, 

Of  ignorance  the  slave  ? 

What  a  sad  present  shall  I  make, 

My  country  and  my  God  ! 
A  wretch  whom  justice  soon  may  crush, 

'Neath  its  avenging  rod! 

So  griev'd  she  o'er  her  orphan  boy, 
While  tears  suffus'd  each  eye ; 

And  pray'd  some  helper  might  be  rais'd, 
Or  Heav'n  would  let  him  die. 

Her  prayer  of  faith  was  quickly  heard, — 

You  took  her  Orphan  boy ; 
Dispeled  her  grief,  dried  up  her  tears, 

And  fill'd  her  heart  with  joy. 

Ah  what  returns  shall  I  e'er  make, 
For  so  much  kindness  shown  ? 

Shall  I  forget  it,  say,  shall  I, 
When  up  to  man  I've  grown  ? 

My  mind  to  study  I'll  apply, . 

With  unremitting  zeal ; 
Till  it  becomes  more  sweet  to  me, 

Than  is  my  daily  meal. 

And  when  I  enter  on  the  world, 
Should  Heaven  my  efforts  crown, 

I'll  lib'ral  be,  nor  will  with  scorn 
Upon  the  poor  look  down. 

And  now  my  friends  and  patrons  dear. 
Heaven  bless  your  pious  care, 

And  save  you  now  and  evermore, 
In  answer  to  my  prayer, 


SCHOOL  ADDRESS.  83 


Still,  still  extend  your  charities, 
And  may  you  while  you  live, 

Feel,  always  feel,  "  more  blessed  'tis 
To  give,  than  to  receive." 


APOTHEGMS. 


Would  you  life's  tedious,  tasteless  hours  beguile  ? 
.Write  Apothegms  in  apostolic  style  ! 


PIETY    IN   APPEARANCE    ONLY. 

Distrust,  'tis  not  ingenuous,  that  piety 
Which  does  not  make  us  useful  to  society. 

'  •       , 


ADDRESS    TO    THE    SCHOLARS    OF    A    CERTAIN    SCHOOL    ON 
THE    DEATH    OF   ONE    OF    THEIR    COMPANIONS. 

Yc  list'ning  youths,  your  parent's  hope  and  joy, 

Let  themes  like  this  your  infant  minds  employ ; 

See  how  stern  Death,  with  mortals  still  at  strife, 

Has  snatched  young  Abram  in  the  bloom  of  life. 

So  falls  the  lily  with  its  beauteous  head, 

Struck  by  the  scythe  it  withers  and  lies  dead. 

Such  was  the  fiat  of  Almighty  grace, 

His  soul  to  translate  to  a  better  place. 

Fond  youths  attend,  nor  let  unheeded  pass, 

This  solemn  Bible  truth  "  all  flesh  is  grass." 

There's  naught  can  shield  you  from  Death's  fatal  blow, 

Spares  he  the  young,  or  middle-aged,  ah  no ! 

Go  to  the  church-yard,  on  the  tomb-stones  read, 

How  the  young  dead  by  far  the  old  exceed  ; 

From  Death's  fell  grasp,  ye  youths,  there  no  reprieve, 


84  RE-UNION  OF  SOUL  AND  BODY. 

And  each  in  turn  this  transient  state  must  leave. 
But  though  his  pow'r's  so  fatal  to  our  race, 
Still  there's  a  remedy  prescrib'd  by  grace ; 
Then  "  mark  and  learn  and  inwardly  digest," 
Nor  spurn  indignant  at  high  Heaven's  request . 
"My  sons  be  wise,  and  do  yourselves  no  harm  !" 
Death  of  his  sling  fair  Virtue  can  disarm. 
Then  in  the  morning  of  your  youth  begin, 
To  practise  virtue  and  to  hate  all  sin ; 
So  shall  that  God  who  form'd  you  by  his  power, 
Protect  and  bless  you  ev'ry  passing  hour, 
Save  you  from  hell,  and  when  he  bids  you  die, 
Receive  your  souls  to  dwell  with  him  on  high. 


RE-UNION    OF    SOTJL    AND    BODY    IN   A    FUTURE    STATE. 

Body  and  soul,  like  man  and  wife 

You've  journey'd  through  this  lirpsome  life, 

To  the  appointed  lonely  goal ; 
Now  body,  death  with  his  fell  blow, 
Has  lain  thee  in  the  dust  full  low, 

Till  Heav'n  rejoin  thee  to  thy  soul. 

And  is  there  hope  beyond  the  grave  ? 
Yes,  he  who  came  mankind  to  save, 

Hath  burst  death's  gloomy  prison  door ; 
And  when  thou  hear'st  Christ's  trumpet  sound, 
Swift  from  thy  prison  shall  thou  bound 

And  meet  thy  soul  to  part  no  more. 

In  thy  proportions  form'd  divine, 
In  lustre  thou  shall  far  oulshine, 

Or  sun  or  moon  or  morning  slar ; 
Then  to  thy  soul  in  glory  join'd, 
Naught  shall  ye  through  the  ages  find, 

Your  endless  peace  and  joy  to  mar. 


FINAL  IMPENITENCE. 

FAITH. 


Say  that  it  is,  when  you  of  Faith  would  treat, 

"  The  point  where  assent,  and  where  consent  meet." 


FINAL   IMPENITENCE,  AND  THE  CALL  TO   DRINK  THE  WA 
TERS    OF   LIFE. 

If  in  this  life  we  will  not  mend, 
But  onward  to  destruction  tend ; 
Then  shall  our  souls  in  yonder  world, 
Down  to  that  Pit  of  wo  be  hurl'd, 
In  which  Jehovah's  dreadful  ire, 
Blows  up  the  flames  of  endless  fire. 
Then  while  the  call  to  all  is — "  come" — 
(Though  Satan  says  'tis  but  to  some, 
Believe  him  not,  he  fell  from  grace, 
And  still  he  hates  and  tempts  our  race  ;) 
Unto  your  Saviour's  words  give  ear, 
Come  all  and  drink  life's  water  clear, 
That  has  it  source  in  Heaven  above, 
A  fountain  of  redeeming  love. 
You  cannot  drink  this  fountain  dry, 
Then  drink  ye  all,  and  never  die. 
Will  you,  O  Man,  refuse  to  come  ? 
Awake,  ye  dead,  ye  deaf,  ye  dumb  ! 
Awake,  before  the  monster  Death 
Bids  you  resign  your  mortal  breath. 
Go  kiss  the  Son,  before  his  wrath 
Like  lightning  flash  across  thy  path. 
Should  you  refuse,  his  anger  may 
Consume  ye  sinners  "  on  the  way." 
Then  to  his  grace  obedient  yield, 
He'll  be  to  you  a  sun,  a  shield, 
You  need  not  dread  the  monster's  frown, 
You'll  wear  in  Heaven  a  glorious  crown. 


86  THE  MARTYR'S  CROWN. 

WORSHIPPERS    WORSHIPPING    ON    THEIR    KNEES    ON    THB 
STEPS    OF   THE    "CATHEDRAL." 

See  where  the  houseless  suppliants  wait, 

On  bended  knees  at  mercy's  gate ! 

Would  their  rich  men  but  grant  them  pews, 

To  shield  them  from  the  cold  and  dews, 

They'd  tell  the  Parson's  needy  fold, 

"  We  love  your  souls  more  than  our  gold !" 


NO    SALVATION   WITHOUT  REPENTANCE. 

This  sentence  let  each  in  his  memory  cherish, 
"Except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise  perish.'' 

Luke,  xui,  5. 


THE    BLACK    MAN  S    EPITAPH. 

Though  sprung  from  Afric's  sable  race, 
Yet  I  obtain'd  God's  pard'ning  grace  ; 
On  white  man's  land  I  learn 'd  to  prize, 
What  made  one  good  and  truly  wise. 
So  freed  by  Death  from  Sin's  control, 
Earth  takes  my  body,  God  my  soul. 


THE  MARTYR'S  CROWN. 
CHORUS. 

Patient  Saint,  do  not  faint, 
Cry  for  grace,  run  the  race ; 
Fired  with  love,  look  above, 
Die  and  rise,  seize  the  prize. 


THE  MARTYR'S  CROWN.  87 

Never  heed  the  worldling's  scoff, 
Soon  you'll  put  your  armour  off ; 
Nobly  you've  his  cause  defended, 
Christ  shall  say  "  your  warfare's  ended." 
Patient,  &c. 

Then  you'll  see  with  rapt'rous  wonder, 
Jesus  in  the  Heavens  yonder  : 
There  he  stands  with  open  hands, 
Circled  by  celestial  bands. 

MKu'toiyyi&ytu  rfO 
See  th§  spirits  of  the  just, 
Who  in  him  have  put  their  trust ; 
Dazzling  like  celestial  fires, 
Hark  !  they  tune  their  golden  lyres. 

Oh,  how  Heaven's  arches  ring, 
While  redeeming  love  they  sing ; 
Glory  to  th'  Eternal  One, 
Heavenly  Father,  only  Son. 

"  We]on  earth  were  wont  to  roam, 
Distant  from  our  Father's  home  ; 
Yet  his  love  has  brought  us  nigh, 
Now  we  see  him  eye  to  eye. 

Freed  from  sin  and  Satan's  chain, 
Wash'd  our  souls  from  ev'ry  stain, 
Jesus,  we'll  with  hearts  elate 

Bear  eternal  glory's  weight."  . 

• 

Now  the  Saviour  waves  his  hand, 
Quick  as  thought  a  shining  band, 
Straight  descend  to  this  terrene, 
View  the  Christain's  dying  scene. 

See  him  lift  his  hand  on  high, 
"  Happy  !  happy  !"  hear  him  cry ; 


PROPER  USE  OF  LEARNISG- 

Then  his  ransom'd  spirit  flies 
Upward  to  its  native  skies. 

Shout,  ye  saints,  in  rapt'rous  strains, 
Jesus  king  of  martyrs  reigns  ; 
A  martyr's  crown,  resplendent,  now 
Decks  his  own  triumphant  brow. 

"  Come,  ye  sons,  redeem'd  by  grace, 
Victors  in  the  Heavenly  race  ; 
On  my  throne  come  sit  ye  down, 
'Wear  with  me  a  martyr's  crown. 

"  Closely  seat  ye  by  my  side, 
Oh,  my  own  unspotted  bride  ; 
Wear  ye,  by  my  Father  bless'd, 
Martyrs'  crowns  in  endless  rest." 


VIDEO   MELIORA  PROBOQUE ;    DETERIORA  SEQUOR. 

I  see  the  better,  and  approve  them  too, 
Yet,  notwithstanding,  I  worse  things  pursue. 


"OMNIS  INDUS  OPES  SUPERAT  MENS  CONSCIA  RECTI/ 

The  mind  with  conscious  rectitude  if  bless'd, 
Excels  all  India's  riches  when  possess'd. 


THE  PROPER  USE  OF  LEARNING. 

And  pray  what  is  the  use  of  a  high  leam'd  man  ? 
Why  by  teaching  to  do  all  the  good  that  he  can ! 


REPENT. 


And  if  to  good  teaching  he  add  good  example, 
Then  wo  be  to  those  who  on  such  teaching  trample. 


THE       OLD    VETERAN. 

That  he  had  been,  he  proved  it  by  his  scars. 
A  vet'ran  soldier  in  the  field  of  Mars ; 
And  did  his  country  well  his  toils  repayj? 
Why  ask  thou  me,  'tis  for  himself  to  say. 
Yet  this  he  said,  "  where'er  my  lot  is  cast, 
I'll  love  my  country  while  my  life  shall  last." 


FUTURE    PROSPECTS. 


Look  you  for  life's  sufferings  and  toils  a  reward  ? 
Don't  seek  it  from  men,  let  it  come  from  the  Lord. 


THE    LAST    SHADE. 


Our  feeble  frames  are  lifeless  laid, 
By  Death  the  last  successive  shade. 


REPENT. 


Sinners  repent,  your  steps  retrace, 
You're  lost  by  sin,  but  saved  by  grace  ! 


90  REPENTANCE. 

TEMPTATION. 

"  The  temptations  of  the  Lord  are  trials  of  our  Virtue." 
"  The  temptations  of  the  Devil  are  solicitations  to  evil." 
He  most,  therefore,  be  resisted,  that  he  may  "  flee  from  us.' 

God  tempts  his  saints  in  various  ways, 

Their  virtue  'tis  to  try ; 
And  if  they  live  unto  his  praise, 

He'll  raise  them  up  on  high. 

Temptation  is  the  Devil's  fort, 
From  whence  he  shoots  his  darts : 

But  Christians  to  Faith's  shield  resort, 
And  so  secure  their  hearts. 

The  enemy  beholds,  enraged, 

His  arrows  blunted  fall ; 
The  saints  feel  warm  to  be  engaged, 

And  on  their  Master  call. 

Then  in  his  strength  they  onward  go, 

He  arms  them  for  the  fight ; 
Dauntless  they  rush  upon  the  foe, 

And  Satan's  put  to  flight. 


REPENTANCE. 

When  of  his  sins  the  man  repents, 
The  justice  of  our  God  relents ; 
And  when  through  Jesus  he  believes. 
He  pardon  of  his  sins  receives. 
The  grace  that  owns  him  for  a  son. 
Is  glory  in  his  soul  begun. 


THE  GRAVE. 

THE   HUMAN    SOUL. 

Itself  a  Power,  the  human  soul 
Cannot  be  kept  in  vile  control, 

By  things  of  time  and  sense  ; 
On  daring  wings  it  soars  on  high, 
Far,  far  beyond  the  azure  sky, 

Up  to  God's  residence  ! 


MAN,    A    THINKING    BEING. 

Man,  sure,  a  thinking  being  is, 
And  just  as  well  he  knows  it, 
Not  to  himself  this  precious  gift, 
But  to  Heaven's  love  he  owes  it. 


THE    POWER    OF    JEHOVAH. 

How  vast  his  power,  there's  none  can  tell, 
'Tis  seen  in  Heaven,  'tis  felt  in  Hell. 
Here  saints  exult  in  rapt'rous  strains, 
There  groan  the  damn'd  in  endless  pains  ! 

Would'st  thou  escape  God's  wrath  in  Hell  ? 
Thy  weapons  ground,  no  more  rebel ; 
Repent,  believe,  obey — forgiven, 
Go  wear  a  starry  crown  in  Heaven. 


THE  GRAVE,  HEAVEN  AND  HELL. 

The  grave's  a  place  in  which  we'll  lie  full  low, 
A  place  to  which  we  all  of  us  must  go-; 
Heaven  is  a  truly  glorious  place  on  high, 


92  DIVINE  WRATH. 

Which  none  of  us  can  enter  till  we  die. 

There  is  a  place  of  wo  unspeakable  ! 

It  is  not  Heaven,  nay  truly,  it  is  Hell ! 

Then  where's  the  man  who  boasts  of  reas'ning  powers, 

Will  unimprov'd  let  slip  life's  golden  hours  ? 

Nay,  in  a  moment  on  Death's  fearful  brink, 

To  Heaven  we  rise,  or  else  to  Hell  we  sink ! 


DIVINE  WRATH.      . 

Would  you  escape  impending  wrath, 

Walk  always  in  religion's  path  ; 

Regard  not  what  the  wicked  say, 

There  are  no  lions  in  this  way. 

Then  while  'tis  call'd  "  to-day"  be  wise. 

Secure  a  mansion  in  the  skies  ; 

You'll  not  regret  the  toil  and  pain, 

You  here  endured  that  house  to  gain. 

Fullness  of  joy  is  there  in  store, 

And  there  are  pleasures  evermore. 

In  God's  own  book  these  truths  are  found. 

There  precious  promises  abound, 

In  Christ  the  Lord,  to  all  made  sure, 

Who  faithful  to  the  end  endure ; 

But  sinners  in  their  sins  may  look 

In  vain  for  comfort  in  that  book. 

For  while  they  look  they'll  surely  find. 

Unyielding  sinners  are  consign'd 

To  blackness,  darkness,  fire  and  pain, 

While  God  himself  shall  live  and  reign. 


TEMPERANCE.  93 

MAMMON    PROFITABLY    DISPOSED    OF. 
"He  sent  his  charities  before  him  to  Heaven." — Saurin. 

He,  by  his  charities,  to  Heaven  sent 
His  fortune  first,  which  to  the  Lord  he  lent; 
Summon'd  from  hence  by  mandate  of  God's  love, 
He's  gone  to  enjoy  those  charities  above. 


TEMPERANCE. 
Gall.  5th  Chap.  25th  Verse. 

Self-government  we  Temperance  define, 

A  gen'ral  law,  of  origin  divine ; 

Including  both,  if  mortals  right  can  scan, 

Alike  the  inner  as  the  outer  man. 

'Tis  moderation,  as  St.  Paul  has  shown, 

"  To  all  men  be  your  moderation  known." 

Religion  'tis,  however  strange  it  seem, 

The  mean,  the  safest  between  each  extreme. 

It  order  is,  God's  choicest  dearest  law, 

The  light  in  which  he  all  creation  saw ; 

When  first  he  bade  it  into  being  rise, 

Angels  and  men,  and  earth,  and  seas  and  skies. 

The  i-dea  which  he  loves  and  follows  still, 

All  he  requires  of  man  or  ever  will. 

Order  for  which  he  once  the  Heavens  did  shake, 

And  will  earth  next,  and  Heaven,  for  order's  sake. 

Then  shall  this  law  infracted  be  restored, 

And  every  nation  own  its  common  Lord ! 


94  DEATH  WILL  NOT  WAIT. 

THE    DOCTRINES   AND   PRECEPTS    OF    THE    GOSPEL. 

T.  Drcight. 

We  in  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel  scan, 
All  moral  truth  that  now  is  known  by  man ; 
Without  extend  its  precepts,  and  within, 
Require  each  virtue  and  forbid  each  sin. 


THE    SAVIOUR   AND   HIS    BRIDE,    THE    CHURCH. 

See  the  bless'd  Saviour  with  the  Church  his  bride. 
"There  Virtue  walks  with  glory  by  her  side." 


DYING    IN    SIN. T.  Dwight. 

Hurried,  surprised,  and  with  distress  replete, 
Sinners  in  terror  from  this  world  retreat ; 
Wake  in  the  next,  and  at  the  Judge's  seat, 
All  unprepared  his  angry  frown  they  meet. 


DEATH  WILL  NOT  WAIT  OUR  WISHES. — From  the  same. 
"  Death,  'tis  a  melancholy  day,  to  those  who  have  no  God." 

Remember  this,  all  of  us  ought, 
Death  will  not  for  our  wishes  wait ; 

The  Judgment  hastens,  solemn  thought ! 
Eternity  knocks  at  the  gate. 


COLUMBIA  COLLEGE.  95 

LIGHT   AND   DARKNESS. 


'Twas  said  that  light  into  the  darkness  shone, 
But  it  the  darkness  comprehended  not ; 

£in  soil'd  our  human  nature,  One  alone 

Can  cleanse  and  wash  out  ev'ry  stain  and  blot. 


EPITAPH. 

Did  worth  departed  moulder  in  the  dust, 
What  hope,  we'd  ask,  remaineth  for  the  just  ? 
But  if  like  incense  it  ascends  above, 
And  meets  its  Father  and  its  God  in  love, 
Then  all  your  sorrowing  for  his  loss  dismiss, 
He  dwells  immortal  in  the  realms  of  bliss. 


COLUMBIA    COLLEGE. 
"  Antiquam  Exquirite  Matrem." 

Columbia  College  !  Alma  Mater !  well 

Do  I  remember,  and  the  time  could  tell, 

When  first  escaped  from  pedagogic  rule, 

To  thee  I  came  fresh  from  a  grammar  school. 

From  five  long  years  well  stored,  at  all  events, 

With  English,  Greek,  and  Latin  rudiments. 

Stern  was  our  Teacher,  rigid  and  severe, 

Nor  ruled  by  love  his  pupils,  but  by  fear ; 

From  Scotia's  bleak  and  snowy  hills  he  came, 

Too  rough  for  smooth  and  polish'd  rhyme  his  name. 

A  learned  man,  versed  in  scholastic  trade, 

He  strict  attention  to  his  scholors  paid. 

Nor  for  the  number  that  he  sent  thee  cared, 

His  object  was  to  send  them  well  prepared ; 

And  how  I  profited  thy  books  can  show, 


99  COLUMBIA  COLLEGE. 

'Twere  impious  this  !     He  is  too  good,  too  just, 
To  pass  unheeded  any,  who  in  prayer 
With  heart  sincere,  trust  in  his  guardian  care. 
Then,  poor,  yet  will  I  seek  with  Hope  elate, 
Eternal  good  things  in  a  better  state  ! 
Nor  grieve,  nor  murmur,  nor  repine  that  I, 
Tread  life's  low  walks  by  mandate  from  on  high. 
Mother — no  longer,  thus,  I'll  thee  detain, 
Lest  thy  digressing  son  should  give  thee  pain. 
Or  in  those  griefs  thy  sympathies  engage, 
Which  power  superior  can  alone  assuage. 
My  number'd  days  will  soon  be  o'er  and  past, 
And  to  that  term  I  feel  I'm  hast'nmg  fast ! 
But  let  me  mention  first  thy  gala  day, 
When  all  thy  train  came  marching  down  Broadway, 
It  was  a  show  not  framed  for  war  and  fight, 
It  peaceful  was,  a  real  classic  sight. 
Freshmen  and  Sophs,  Juniors  and  Seniors  abreast, 
Pres.  and  Professors,  Janitor,  full  dress'd, 
In  long  and  flowing  gowns  of  sable  hue, 
They  look'd  like  Preachers  to  the  admiring  view  ! 
Then  there  arrived,  into  St.  Paul's  they  press'd, 
And  I,  thy  joyous  son  among  the  rest ; 
Then  up  the  aisles  we  pass'd  with  silent  feet, 
And  each  located  in  his  proper  seat. 
FilFd  was  the  House  of  God,  below,  above, 
Music — and  beauty,  beaming  looks  of  love. 
The  music  still'd,  and  now  commence  by  sign, 
Those  acts  in  which  each  speaker  tries  to  shine  ; 
Speeches  in  English,  some  in  Latin  too, 
Salute,  farewell,  sparkling  with  wit,  span  new. 
The  speaking  o'er,  th'  assembly  wait  to  see, 
Each  graduate  take  his  separate  degree  ; 
•  Conferr'd  by  Pres.  in  Latin  on  the  whole, 
A.  B.  or  A.  M.  with  a  parchment  roll. 
Pray'rs  ended,  now  th'  assembly  all  retire 
To  censure  some,  while  some  applaud,  admire. 
Among  the  A.  B.'s  ranks  thy  humble  son : 
Mother,  these  acts  in  ninety-six  were  done  ! 


PRESENTATION  OF  A  SOUVENIR. 

Alma — thou  art  indeed  an  ancient  Dame, 

And  not  thy  first  thou  bear'st  but  second  name ; 

Thou,  fruitful  mother,  dost  with  best  intent, 

A  num'rous  offspring  to  the  world  present. 

How  many  sons  who  thee  their  parent  claim, 

Now  live  to  add  fresh  lustre  to  thy  name  ! 

A  nd  numbers  more  whom  time  has  swept  away, 

Have  shown  illustrious  in  a  previous  day. 

Mater,  farewell,  I  have  detain'd  thee  long, 

To  listen  to  my  dreary  plaintive  song ; 

But  why  not  I,  for  fear  of  censure,  dare 

To  tell  thee  all  my  secret  bosom  care  ? 

Thou  caredst  for  me,  and  all  my  faults  pass'd  o'er, 

Nor  didst  expel  me  from  thy  friendly  door. 

When  to  salute  thee  next,  I  may  beg  leave, 

I  hope  'twill  be  an  A.  M.  to  receive. 

Long  may'st  thou  now,  in  answer  to  my  prayer, 

Scores  after  scores  of  worthiest  sons  prepare  ; 

Thy  crown,  thy  glory  in  this  world  of  care, 

Bright  crowns  themselves,  in  endless  day  to  wear. 


GENERALS    IN    SERMONS. 

On  generals  we  like  to  dwell, 
Nor  like  our  own  true  portrait  well ; 
Make  the  resemblance  too  exact, 
It  gives  disgust,  such  is  the  fact. 


TO  ACCOMPANY  THE  PRESENTATION  OF  A  SOUVENIR  SENT 
TO    A    YOUNG    LADY    AS    A    NEW    YEAR'S    PRESENT. 

Let  in  my  name  and  stead  this  Book  appear, 
And  with  you  Miss  a  new  and  happy  year. 


100  A  SCRIPTURAL  ACROSTIC. 

EPITAPH    FOR   MR.    STURGES. 

Mourn  not,  ye  friends,  all  must  this  tribute  pay, 
And  all  remingle  with  our  parent  clay , 
What  though  grim  death  his  object  ne'er  should  miss. 
He's  the  sole  passport  to  the  realms  of  bliss  ! 


THE    LORD  S    PRAYER    VERSIFIED. 

Our  Father,  who  dost  in  Heaven  reside, 
Thy  name,  now  and  ever  be  sanctified  ; 
Let  thy  kingdom  come,  and  thy  will  be  done, 
lu  earth  and  in  Heaven,  as  though  both  were  one. 
From  day  unto  day  still  let  us  be  fed, 
With  earthly  not  only,  but  Heavenly  bread ; 
And  while  here  on  earth  we're  permitted  to  live, 
Forgive  us  our  sins,  as  we  others  forgive. 
Jrc-to  temptation,  oh  !  lead  us  not,  Lord, 
But  kindly  protection  from  evil  afford. 
The  kingdom,  the  power,  the  glory  to  thec, 
Belongs  and  endures  to  E-ter-ni-ty. 

Amen. 


A    SCRIPTURAL    ACROSTIC. 

A-sk,  and  ye  shall  receive, 

S-eek,  and  ye  shall  find, 

K-nock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you. 


/•%     i  ,        i  n     •         i  i  •''"•' 

Our  blessed  oaviour  thus  commands, 

Sure  'tis  an  easy  task, 

Which  all  resolves  itself  in  this, 

You've  only  but  to  A-S-K  ! 


THE  SUBSTITUTE.  101 

THE    SUBSTITUTE,    OR    THE    CORDWAINER    CURED    OF 
DRUNKENNESS. 

PART   I. 

This  world  is  like  an  ocean,  truly, 
Disturb'd  by  winds  and  storms  unruly ; 
By  folly,  pride,  and  foolish  fashions, 
By  what  we  moderns  style  the  passions. 
They're  worldly  lusts,  which  war  upraise 
Against  the  soul,  St.  Peter  says. 
They  are  a  most  unruly  set, 
And  things  unseemly,  oft  beget ; 
In  spirit,  as  in  speaking,  thinking, 
In  physics,  as  in  eating,  drinking, 
In  each  of  which  excesses  may 
Proceed  in  many  a  fearful  way  ; 
If  to  restrain  them  you're  too  idle, 
Then  hold  them  in  as  with  a  bridle, 
Or  they  like  tyrants  will  command, 
And  rule  you  with  an  iron  hand. 
But  if  to  order  once  brought  under, 
Both  you  and  all  the  world  will  wonder, 
When  some  bad  practice  is  forsaken, 
Nor  in  the  main  be  much  mistaken. 
Our  preface  this,  we  haste  to  tell, 
What  to  a  certain  wight  befell, 
Sam  Slocombe,  so  the  man  was  nam'd, 
For  drinking  round  the  country  fam'd. 
And  folks  to  say  were  not  afraid, 
He  lov'd  it  better  than  his  trade, 
Which  trade  of  Sam's  was  making  shoes, 
And  boots  and  slippers,  if  you  choose ; 
But  though  this  be  a  lawful  call-ing, 
Not  wrought  by  needle,  but  by  awl-ing — 
Yet  for  old  Flaccus  cared  not  Sam, 
"  Ne  sutnr  ultra  crepidum" 
Which  means  when  into  English  cast, 
"  Cobbler,  I  say,  stick  to  your  last." 
i* 


102  THE  SUBSTITUTE. 

But  though  so  oft  he  let  rum  rule, 

Yet  Sam,  when  sober  was  no  fool, 

For  he  besides  a  pious  breeding, 

Was  very  fond  of  Bible-reading, 

And  he  could  argue,  he  could  tell, 

Full  many  a  truth  of  Heaven  and  Hell. 

Now  this  I  say,  full  well  he  knew, 

What  others  ought,  or  should  not  do, 

Thus  far  he  judged  his  neighbour's  standing, 

Approving,  or  wi&h  censure  branding, 

Yet  while  he  thus  employ'd  his  mind,. 

He  was  not  to  his  own  sin  blind. 

For  still,  with  this  outrageous  sinr 

He  felt  a  spark  of  grace  within, 

And  many  good  resolves  he  made, 

Yet  only  call'd  in  reason's  aid, 

Which  if  of  grace  it  has  no  season ! 

Tis  weak,  alas,  this  human  reason. 

From  habit  strengthening  as  it  grows, 

A  kind  of  second  nature  flows. 

If  evil  is  ihe  habit,  sure, 

Twill  make  its  slave  its  ills  endure — 

Till  broken  off,  it  cannot  fail, 

To  stronger  grow  and  to  prevail. 

Now  grace  to  slavery  ne'er  invites, 

But  liberty  and  pure  delighis, 

And  drinking  rum's  a  habit  evil, 

Tis  not  of  grace  but  of  the  devil ! 

Sam  felt  this  kind  of  logic  true — 

"  I  see  at  length,  it  will  not  do 

To  lead  this  idle  drinking  life ; 

Myself,  my  children  and  my  wife 

Twill  beggar,  and  to  ruin  bring, 

Too  long  I've  trifled  with  this  thing  ; 

My  character,  my  credit  lost : 

What,  lose  my  pleasures  ? — count  the  cost — 

With  mind  and  body  rack'd  and  pain'd, 

Much  have  I  lost,  and  little  gain'd —  ' 

But  I'm  resolv'd — it  shall  be  so  ! 


THE  SUBSTITUTE.  103 

To  Doctor  Twitchill  straight  I'll  go." 

So  off  he  hies  with  nimble  feet, 

And  meets  the  Doctor  in  the  street. 

Sam  "  doff'd  his  hat  and  smooth'd  his  brow," 

And  to  the  Doctor  made  his  bow ; 

"  I  my  complaint  to  you  would  tell, 

But  Doctor  it  you  know  full  well, 

Therefore  in  story  I'll  be  brief, 

Doctor  prescribe,  I  want  relief." 

Now  Sam  of  late  had  proved  untrusty, 

Which  made  the  Doctor  somewhat  crusty, 

Because  he  had  his  work  neglected — 

So  while  an  answer  he  expected, 

The  Doctor  with  sardonic  smile, 

Poor  Sam  address'd  in  angry  style — 

"  To  me  do  you  complaining  come  ? 

Sam  Slocombe  leave  off  drinking  rum, 

And  you  shall,  as  occasion  suits, 

Half  sole  my  shoes,  and  mend  my  boots  ; 

But  if  you  still  your  whistle  wet, 

From  me  no  future  jobs  you'll  get." — 

"  Ah,  Doctor,  worse  than  rum,  'tis  brandy." 

"  You'd  better  live  on  sugar  candy — 

Brandy  besure  won't  smell  the  breath, 

But  more  than  rum  'tis  charg'd  with  death 

No  matter  who  for  brandy  pleads, 

The  grape  in  strength  the  cane  exceeds  ; 

'Twill  make  you  with  the  horrors  quiver, 

'Twill  indurate  your  very  liver, 

'Twill" — "  Doctor,  hold  your  hand  I  pray  ! 

Nor  from  your  patients  too  long  stay, 

My  case  I've  thought  on  o'er  and  o'er, 

And  I'm  resolv'd  to  drink  no  more — 

I  come  not,  Doctor,  to  dispute, 

But  to  request  some  substitute." 

"  Why,  Sam,  your  words  my  heart  do  cheer — 

I  hope  you're  honestly  sincere — 

Then  I'll  prescribe,  though  I'm  set  down 

To  be  another  Doctor  Brown — 


104  THE  SUBSTITUTE. 

In  hopes  the  things  that  caus'd  your  pain 

May  you  to  health  restore  again  ; 

But  if  my  order  you  neglect, 

No  benefit  from  it  expect — 

You  know  my  name?"  "Yes,  Doctor — Tvvitchell,' 

"  Then  do  you,  Sam,  henceforth  drink  switchell, 

Now  go"  ;  said  he,  in  tone  severe, 

"  Another  word  I  will  not  hear." 

PART    II. 

And  now  behold  him  standing  mute, 
And  musing  on  his  substitute  ; 
Resolv'd  to  suffer  self  denial, 
And  give  the  thing  a  decent  trial. 
But  here  the  quere  might  be  made, 
Why  Sam,  distress'd  and  seeking  aid, 
First  craved  it  from  a  fellow  being, 
And  not  at  once  from  the  All-seeing  ? 
A  spark  of  grace  'twas  said  he  felt ; 
If  on  his  knees  he  then  had  knelt, 
And  begg'd  of  grace  to  be  its  debtor, 
Would  he  not  then  have  fared  much  better  ? 
'Tis  granted — yet  the  Christian  knows, 
What  is  in  man  that  will  oppose, 
(That  which  by  nature  all  inherit,) 
The  gracious  strivings  of  the  Spirit, 
The  carnal  mind  in  Scripture  named, 
A  principle  ne'er  to  be  tamed, 
Which  rules  with  most  despotic  sway, 
The  which,  unless  the  Lord  shall  slay, 
'Twill  hold  the  man  in  durance  fast, 
As  long  as  life  on  earth  shall  last. 
Then  why  should  we  make  the  attempt, 
Sam  more  than  man  to  represent  ? 
The  Christain  knows  how  hard  a  thing 
It  was  at  first  his  mind  to  bring 
From  off  its  pinnacle  of  pride, 
And  all  at  once  to  lay  aside 


J          THE  SUBSTITUTE. 

Those  towering  thoughts  which  self  inflate, 

And  bind  men  to  their  real  state. 

All  nat'ral  men  by  sin  are  blinded, 

Which  makes  them  heady  and  high  minded  ; 

They're  strong  in  hope  and  confidence, 

And  against  Heaven  they  rear'd  this  fence  ; 

Nor  whips,  nor  rods,  nor  cross,  nor  halter, 

Have  power,  men's  wicked  hearts  to  alter  ! 

The  grace  that's  in  the  gospel  found, 

Must  bring  their  Babel  to  the  ground  ! 

In  nature's  field,  the  Christian  knows, 

No  plant  of  lowliness  e'er  grows  ; 

God  plants  it  in  the  heart  renew'd, 

And  there  it  thrives  with  grace  endued. 

This  then  we  think  the  reason  why 

Sam  did  to  man  not  Heav'n  apply — 

Into  a  store,  hard  by,  he  stepp'd, 

'Twas  by  a  temp'rance  grocer  kept. 

Though  he  had  always  shunn'd  his  door, 

The  grocer  Sam  had  known  before  ; 

He  knew  his  trade  and  how  he  acted, 

And  many  debts  for  rum  contracted. 

But  on  what  errand  now  he  came, 

He  could  not  guess,  so  could  not  name  ; 

But  let  it  be  for  good  or  evil, 

He  thought  he  would  entreat  him  civil. 

"  Good  morning,  neighbor ;  well,  how  goe*, 

What  kind  of  wind  this  morning  blows? 

My  eyes,  I  hardly  can  believe, 

This  honor  why  do  I  receive  ?" 

Says  Sam,  "  my  friend,  I  pray  you  stop  ! 

Do  you  sell  treacle  in  your  shop  ?" 

"  I  have  the  article  in  plenty, 

I'll  sell  you  hogsheads  ten  or  twenty." 

"  I  only  by  my  stopping  meant, 

One  gallon  for  experiment, 

From  you  to  buy  a  jug  also, 

Then  take  your  pay,  and  1  will  go." 

The  thing  was  quickly  done,  and  Sam. 


106  THE  SUBSTITUTE. 

Felt  keen  to  take  his  treacle  dram ; 
But  as  he  turn'd  to  bid  good  bye, 
He  met  the  grocer's  piercing  eye 
Fix'd  on  his  own  with  gaze  intent, 
As  though  it  said — "  Experiment !" 
And  what  is  it,  I'd  like  to  know  ? 
At  least,  Sam  understood  it  so — 
Now  he  believ'd,  or  else  opin'd 
The  grocer  to  some  church  was  join'd. 
'     "Grocer!  the  question's  fairly  meant," 
"  What  Christian  church  do  you  frequent  ?" 
"  I'll  tell  you,  since  to  know  you  list, 
I  am  long  since  a  Methodist." 
"  I  like  you  none  the  worse  for  that ; 
My  question  you  have  answer'd  pat. 
And  now  I'll  tell  you  as  a  friend, 
What  by  this  treacle  I  intend. 
You've  heard,  no  doubt,  to  drink  I'm  given. 
By  which  to  ruin  folks  are  driven ; 
Now  I  resolv'd,  in  time,  to  stop, 
And  never  drink  another  drop. 
But  yet  I  thought  it  would  not  suit, 
Unless  I  had  some  substiiute  ; 
So  off  I  went  to  Doctor  Twitchell, 
And  he  approv'd,  and  order'd  switchell  ; 
So  now  I  am  with  this  content 
To  make  a  fair  experiment." 
"  I  pray  it  may  sufficient  prove 
Your  thirst  for  drinking  to  remove  ; 
Your  substitute  the  Doctor  knew, 
Of  alchohol  might  stand  in  lieu, 
And  strength  and  vigor  to  your  heart. 
And  all  your  outer  man  impart. 
But  you  must  give  it  a  fair  trial, 
By  practising  much  self  denial, 
Or,  after  all  you  may  endure, 
It  may  not  work  a  thorough  cure — 
Add  one  thing  more  and  I'll  maintain, 
You  surely  will  your  object  gain." 


THE  SUBSTITUTE.  107 

"Pray  name  it,  since  success  'twill  bring." 

"  Religion,  Sir,  that  is  the  thing. 

No  doubt,  'tis  good  in  its  own  place, 

'Tis  excellent  in  ev'ry  case — 

The  best  of  any  substitutes, 

And  always  proves  so  by  its  fruits. 

But  you  no  longer  I'll  detain, 

You'll  be  this  way,  no  doubt,  again. 

Now  only  let,  '  twixt  you  and  me, 

Your  motto  Perserverance  be." 

So  here  they  parted  for  the  present, 

Both  parties  in  good  humor,  pleasant — 

Sam  quickly  to  his  home  return'd, 

And  in  his  mind  vile  brandy  spurn'd  ; 

His  treacle  drank,  and  in  a  jerk, 

Was  snugly  seated  at  his  work. 

And  thus  he  wrought  day  after  day, 

Took  home  his  work,  receiv'd  his  pay ; 

The  good  effects  were  soon  discern'd, 

Of  what  by  industry  he  earn'd. 

No  longer  within  tavern  walls, 

His  ears  are  deaf  to  toper's  calls  ; 

His  customers  the  change  perceived, 

"  Twas  strange,"  they  said ;  yet  they  believed 

Sam  had  reform'd,  and  chang'd  his  plan, 

And  was  no  more  a  drinking  man. 

And  he,  to  his  great  joy  soon  found, 

His  work  flow  in  from  all  around. 

His  family — how  alter'd  they, 

No  more  to  grief  and  shame  a  prey  ! 

Their  faces  show  a  mind  serene, 

Their  garmems  whole,  and  neat  and  clean. 

His  children  now  at  school  delight, 

To  learn  to  spell,  to  read  and  write. 

And  all  when  Sunday  bell  they  hear, 

In  church  before  the  Lord  appear, 

Confess'd  by  all,  here  was  a  change, 

Not  merely  strange,  but  "  passing  strange" — 

And  was  it  thorough  ?  nay,  not  quite, 


108  THE  SUBSTITUTE. 

But  yet,  all  things  were  working  right ; 
For  grace,  with  perseverance  join'd, 
Strange  inroads  made  into  his  mind  ; 
Upon  the  little  spark  it  blew, 
And  soon  into  a  flame  it  grew — 
Keenly  he  felt  the  glowing  smart, 
While  melting  down  his  stony  heart. 
Conviction  came,  its  powerful  sway 
Who  can  withstand  ?  behold  him  pray  ! 
He  just  is  made,  finds  peace  beside, 
Through  faith  in  the  once  Crucified. 
He  doubted  not,  too  plain  his  case — 
A  real  change  had  taken  place  ! 
Once  he  opposed  God's  righteous  law — 
He  then  was  "  blind,  but  now  he  saw  ;" 
Nor  did  he  shout,  as  if  in  noise 
His  soul  had  lost  its  equipoise ; 
Nor  did  his  mortal  body  shake, 
As  though  torn  up  by  an  earthquake. 
It  was  the  Spirit's  gracious  choice, 
To  speak  to  him  in  "still,  small  voice," 
In  accents  gentle,  bland  and  kind, 
Not  furious  like  the  whirling  wind — 
"  Thy  God,  thy  sins,  a  frightful  store, 
Against  thy  soul  accounts  no  more." 
The  Son  had  proved  his  friend  in  need, 
And  made  him  free  from  sin  indeed ; 
And  now  we  say,  with  pious  mind 
Himself  unto  the  Church  has  join'd, 
To  sin  and  pride  and  folly  dead, 
United  to  his  elect  Head. 
Now  all  the  wise  and  good  rejoice, 
That  Sam  had  made  so  wise  a  choice ; 
Thenceforth  folks  call'd  him  no  more  Sam, 
'Twas  Mr.  Slocombe — his  wife,  ma'am  ! 
Full  many  a  year  is  gone  and  pass'd, 
His  confidence  he  still  holds  fast ; 
And  there  he  stands  a  beacon  still, 
Just  like  a  "  city  on  a  hill !" 


LIFE  IS  UNCERTAIN.  109 

The  tale  is  true  and  not  fictitious, 
In  serious  told,  not  mood  capricious  ; 
And  may  he  ne'er  from  grace  backslide, 
But  keep  close  to  his  Saviour's  side, 
And  faithful  unto  death  still  prove, 
And  wear  in  Heaven  a  crown  of  love. 


GLORY. 


And  what  of  Glory  ?  in  eternal  day, 

'Tis  grace  made  perfect,  absolute,  we'll  say. 


.±  >  ' 

WE  MUST  NOT  DO  EVIL  THAT  GOOD  MAY  COME 
THEREFROM." 

Oh!  that  remember,  always,  this  we  could, 
Not  to  do  evil  for  the  sake  of  good  ! 


PRAYERS  PREFERRED  IN  WRATHJWILL  NOT  BE  ANSWERED. 

Let  prayers  ascend  in  mercy's  peaceful  path, 
Heaven  answers  none  that  are  put  up  in  wrath; 
Then  seek  not  thus  thy  fellow  man  to  slay, 
Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  God,  and  I'll  repay. 


LIFE  IS  UNCERTAIN. 


That  we,  need  we  each  day  and  hour  be  told, 
Our  lives  by  an  "uncertain  tenure  "  hold  ? 
K 


108  THE  SUBSTITUTE. 

Bat  yet,  all  things  were  working  right ; 
For  grace,  with  perseverance  join'd, 
Strange  inroads  made  into  his  mind  ; 
Upon  the  little  spark  it  blew, 
And  soon  into  a  flame  it  grew — 
Keenly  he  felt  the  glowing  smart, 
While  melting  down  his  stony  heart. 
Conviction  came,  its  powerful  sway 
Who  can  withstand  ?  behold  him  pray  ! 
He  just  is  made,  finds  peace  beside, 
Through  faith  in  the  once  Crucified. 
He  doubted  not,  too  plain  his  case — 
A  real  change  had  taken  place  ! 
Once  he  opposed  God's  righteous  law — 
He  then  was  "  blind,  but  now  he  saw ;" 
Nor  did  he  shout,  as  if  in  noise 
His  soul  had  lost  its  equipoise  ; 
Nor  did  his  mortal  body  shake, 
As  though  torn  up  by  an  earthquake. 
It  was  the  Spirit's  gracious  choice, 
To  speak  to  him  in  "still,  small  voice," 
In  accents  gentle,  bland  and  kind, 
Not  furious  like  the  whirling  wind — 
"  Thy  God,  thy  sins,  a  frightful  store, 
Against  thy  soul  accounts  no  more." 
The  Son  had  proved  his  friend  in  need, 
And  made  him  free  from  sin  indeed ; 
And  now  we  say,  with  pious  mind 
Himself  unto  the  Church  has  join'd, 
To  sin  and  pride  and  folly  dead, 
United  to  his  elect  Head. 
Now  all  the  wise  and  good  rejoice, 
That  Sam  had  made  so  wise  a  choice; 
Thenceforth  folks  call'd  him  no  more  Sam, 
'Twas  Mr.  Slocombe — his  wife,  ma'am  ! 
Full  many  a  year  is  gone  and  pass'd, 
His  confidence  he  still  holds  fast ; 
And  there  he  stands  a  beacon  still, 
Just  like  a  "  city  on  a  hill !" 


LIFE  IS  UNCERTAIN.  109 

The  tale  is  true  and  not  fictitious, 
In  serious  told,  not  mood  capricious ; 
And  may  he  ne'er  from  grace  backslide, 
But  keep  close  to  his  Saviour's  side, 
And  faithful  unto  death  still  prove, 
And  wear  in  Heaven  a  crown  of  love. 


GLORY. 


And  what  of  Glory  ?  in  eternal  day, 

'Tis  grace  made  perfect,  absolute,  we'll  say. 


.af.rvr  .'  •-.! 

WE  MUST  NOT  DO  EVIL  THAT  GOOD  MAY  COME 
THEREFROM." 

Oh!  that  remember,  always,  this  we  could, 
Not  to  do  evil  for  the  sake  of  good  ! 


PRAYERS  PREFERRED  IN  WRATHJWILL  NOT  BE  ANSWERED. 

Let  prayers  ascend  in  mercy's  peaceful  path, 
Heaven  answers  none  that  are  put  up  in  wrath; 
Then  seek  not  thus  thy  fellow  man  to  slay, 
Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  God,  and  I'll  repay. 


LIFE  IS  UNCERTAIN. 


That  we,  need  we  each  day  and  hour  be  told, 
Our  lives  by  an  "uncertain  tenure  "  hold  ? 


110  THE  END  OF  TIME. 

THE  GOOD  MAN'S   DEATH. 

Resign'd  he  goes  to  meet  a  bless'd  reward, 
In  Jesus  sleeps,  is  ever  with  the  Lord. 


THE    END    OF   TIME,    AND   BEGINNING    OF    ETERNITY. 

A.  D.  One — eight — three — nine,  is  gone  and  past, 

We've  toil'd  and  worried  through  that  year  at  last, 

Through  scenes  as  varied  as  our  various  states, 

All  noted  under  their  own  proper  dates ; 

Where  time  at  large  in  his  huge  folio  writes 

All  our  transactions  both  of  days  and  nights, 

As  through  his  course  he  flies  on  swiftest  wing, 

Till  Heaven  that  course  unto  an  end  shall  bring. 

Then  shall  he  sleep,  embalm'd  in  heavenly  bowers. 

While  dire  destruction  wastes  this  world  of  ours, 

And  this  "  vain  wo?  Id"  with  all  its  "things"  be  burn'd, 

To  one  vast  heap  of  desolation  turn'd  ! 

Yet  how  this  period  with  precision  find  ? 

The  question  baffles  every  finite  mind ! 

Yet  days  though  many,  it  shall  come,  or  few, 

As  sure  as  He  who  spake  the  word  is  true. 

Search  we  the  Scriptures  both  the  old  and  new, 

There  we  will  find,  at  least,  a  general  clue, 

Enough  to  teach  us  what  we  ne'er  shall  sec, 

With  mortal  eyes,  but  in  eternity. 

And  hear,  in  fine,  the  strong-lung'd  Angel  cry, 

With  hand  uplifted,  swear  by  the  Most  High, 

One  foot  on  sea,  and  one  upon  the  shore, 

That  time,  what  we  call  time,  shall  be  no  more. 


^ 


JUSTICE  AND  MERCY.  Ill 

PROFANE    SWEARING. 

Holy  and  reverend  is,  O  Lord,  thy  name, 

And  dare  thy  creatures  to  blaspheme  the  same .? 

Swearer,  I  warn  thee,  be  by  times  apprized, 

Thou  all  his  fury  hast  not  realized. 

What  though  in  scorn  thy  haughty  brow  be  knit, 

I  see  destruction  on  thy  forehead  writ. 

Not  between  thee  and  mortal  man's  the  strife, 

But  thee  and  God,  who  holds  thy  soul  in  life, 

Who  says  He  guiltless  will  not  hold — how  plain — 

That  man  who  takes  His  hallow'd  name  in  vain. 


RELIGION  ALWAYS  THE  SAME. 


Let  hypocrites  assume  Religion's  name, 
They  change  not  her,  she  always  is  the  same. 


THE  LOVE  OF  MONEY  IS  THE  ROOT  OF  ALL  EVIL. 

Some  say  of  evil,  money  is  the  root  ; 
Not  so,  but  love  of  it,  past  all  dispute. 

;  I 

• 

JUSTICE    AND   MERCY. 

Putasne  mortuus  homo  rursum  vivat  ? 

adT 

If  a  man  die,  shall  be  live  again?  —  Job  xir.  14. 


And  if  a  man  die,  shall  he  liv«  again  ? 
If  his  soul  be  washed  from  every  stain, 
Revive  he  shall,  and  in  Heaven  to  reign  ; 
But  if  he  shall  in  his  sins  expire, 


112  JUSTICE  AND  MERCY. 

Then,  infinite  Justice  will  require 
Him  to  exist  in  endless  fire. 

While  in  this  life  we're  suffer'd  to  stay, 
Of  joys  and  griefs,  we  each  have  our  day, 
But  at  Death's  call  we're  hurried  away ; 
Now  in  the  world  that  never  shall  end, 
In  Mercy  the  sinner  finds  no  friend, 
From  vengeful  wrath  his  soul  to  defend. 

But  now  we're  assur'd  by  Heaven's  command, 
Justice  and  Mercy  go  hand  in  hand, 
Through  every  age,  and  in  every  land ; 
Here,  if  a  man  will  freely  consent, 
To  part  with  sin,  and  sincerely  repent, 
Mercy  shall  triumph,  and  Justice  relent. 

Here  the  wheat  and  the  tares  together  blend, 
t     So  it  must  be,  though  the  tares  offend, 
Till  th'  Angel  of  Death  his  aid  shall  lend ; 
Sinners  are  tares  that  ever  have  spurn'd, 
Mercy,  who  them  from  Sin  would  have  turn'd, 
Now  in  bundles  they're  bound  to  be  burn'd. 

For  the  time  will  come,  when  all  the  dead, 
In  the  air  must  meet  their  "  living  Head," 
Him,  who  once  suflfer'd  for  them,  and  bled  ; 
They  who  despised  and  slighted  him  here, 
With  horror  their  awful  doom  shall  hear, 
No  Mercy  now — 'tis  Justice  severe. 

And  that  Justice,  sure  as  holy  writ, 
The  sinner  to  'scape  will  not  permit, 
But  will  the  good  in  Judgment  acquit, 
For  the  one  obey'd  the  gospel  call, 
The  other  refused,  though  'ttvas  to  all, 
And  now  on  their  heads  must  vengeance  fall. 

t9ik|w  >   ;  -  uit 


CONNUBIAL  HAPPINESS.  113 

Sinners,  with  all  excuse  away, 
And  be  wise  to  know  your  gracious  day, 
Remember,  'tis  dangerous  to  delay  ; 
Be  not  deceived,  God  is  not  mock'd, 
Whatever  by  the  foolish  may  be  talk'd, 
All  vain  expectations  ivill  be  balk'd. 

For  the  world  to  which  we  all  must  go, 
Hath  places  assign'd  of  bliss  or  wo, 
Heaven  for  its  friend,  and  Hell  for  its  foe  ; 
And  Heaven's  designs  all  flow  from  a  source, 
That  none  can  stop  in  its  onward  course, 
No  being  the  mind  of  God  can  force- 

For  God  hath  a  will  above  all  wills, 

He  maketh  alive,  or  else  he  kills, 

And  preserves  the  soul  from  endless  ills  ; 

Then  we  our  wills  to  His  should  submit,        '  j 

He  knows  what's  best,  and  will  do  what's  fit, 

And  on  His  throne  eternally  sit. 

ilA 


A 

CONNUBIAL    HAPPINESS. 

;  •..*«-• 

"  Congenial  souls  alone  can  prove, 
The  pure  delights  of  wedded  love."  —  KeL 

That  man  is  form'd  averse  to  pain, 
And  Haf-piness  pursues,  is  plain  ; 
Yet  finds,  too  oft,  to  miss  he's  prone,, 
The  place  where  she  resides  —  alone. 
Now  who  is  she,  where  does  she  dwell, 
In  Palaces,  or  Fairy's  ceil  ? 
There  was  a  time  she  had  a  home, 
So  fix'd,  she  needed  not  to  roam  ; 
But  now  no  more  a  Queen  she  reigns, 
O'er  Eden's  flowery,  blissful  plains. 
But  though  dethron'd  by  one  offence, 

K» 


114  SUAVITER  LN  MODO. 

She  yet  to  all  can  bliss  dispense ; 

And  still  to  reign's  her  fav'rite  plan, 

Within  the  breast  of  fallen  man. 

Wouldst  thou,  young  man,  with  grief  opprest, 

Have  thy  lost  Queen  reign  in  thy  breast  ? 

Whate'er  thy  lot,  contented  be, 

Folly  forsake,  the  Syren  flee  ! 

Thou'lt  find,  when  broke  her  magic  spells, 

The  Queen  with  true  contentment  dwells. 

Or  wouldst  thou  not  alone  abide, 

But  seek  thee  out  some  "  charming  bride," 

With  whom  to  share  life's  good  and  ill, 

Bethink  thee  well,  thou  must  fulfil, 

From  aught  before,  a  diff 'rent  part, 

When  thou  hast  won  the  maiden's  heart ; 

And  both  have  bow'd  at  Hymen's  shrine, 

And,  tied  the  knot,  and  she  is  thine — 

Then  think  ye  both,  now  you're  made  one. 

How  you  shall  best  life's  journey  run, 

And  with  its  busy  cares  employ'd, 

All  matrimonial  strifes  avoid. 

And  should  kind  Heaven  to  you  decree, 

A  num'rous,  rising  progeny ; 

While  you  on  them  with  fondness  doat, 

How  their  best  interests  you'll  promote  ; 

For  sure  direction  do  you  look  ? 

You'll  find  it  in  God1  s  Holy  Book. 




"SUAVITER  IN  MODO,  BED  FORTITER  IN  RE. 

Too  mild  his  manners  e'er  to  cause  heart-aches, 
But  firm  he  is  in  what  he  undertakes. 


*a' 


KNOCKING  AT  THE  HEART.  115 

MODERATION. 

In  ev'ry  state,  in  ev'ry  nation, 

To  all  we'd  tender  moderation  ; 

But  first,  before  another  line, 

We  moderation  would  define. 

Its  meaning  is  of  great  extent, 

'Tis  temp'rance,  discretion,  judgment  ;•  :-  i-  , 

Which  things,  in  life,  well  understood, 

May  be  promotive  of  much  good. 

But  if  to  them  we  pay  no  heed, 

Such  act  may  to  much  mischief  lead, 

And  make  our  lives  abound  in  ills, 

When  wisdom  governs  not  our  wills. 

But  if  our  passions  we  restrain, 

We've  nought  to  lose,  but  all  to  gain. 

Then  seek  we  grace,  both  day  and  night, 

To  think  and  speak,  and  act  aright, 

"  And  have  tow'rds  man  and  Providence 

A  conscience  void  of  all  offence." 


CHRIST    KNOCKING    AT   THE    HEART. Rev.  hi.  20. 

Jesus  Christ,  the  Father's  Son, 
With  whom  he  is  well  pleased ; 

Leaves  the  courts  of  bliss,  to  save 
A  world  with  sin  diseased. 

Lo  he  stands,  and  lo  he  knocks 

At  every  sinner's  heart ; 
Sinners  haste  to  let  him  in, 

Nor  "  force  him  to  depart." 

He  has  come  to  sup  with  you, 

And  rich  provisions  brings  ; 
Peace  and  joy — with  these  he  means, 

To  feast  his  priests  and  kings. 


Ill  KNOCKING  AT  THE  HEART. 

If  you  open  then  your  hearts, 

He  surely  will  come  in, 
He  alone  your  souls  can  cure, 

From  the  dire  sting  of  sin. 

But  from  knocking  if  he  cease, 

For  ever  you  are  lost  ; 
If  his  Spirit  takes  its  flight, 

You'll  know  it  to  your  cost. 

Oh  be  wise  your  gracious  day, 
To  know  and  to  improve  ; 

Timely  preparation  make, 
Before  you  hence  remove. 

Then  your  Saviour's  love  your'll  know, 
While  here  on  earth  you  stay  ; 

And  when  he  your  souls  requires, 
They'll  soar  to  realms  of  day. 

Now  behold  his  conquering  ones, 
His  endless  glory  share  ; 

Seated  with  him  on  his  throne, 
Unfading  crowns  they  wear. 


Who  will  run  the  glorious  race, 

And  heavenly  bliss  attain  ; 
Do  not  let  the  Saviour  knock, 

And  call  on  you  in  vain. 

Mild  and  gracious  still  he  is,  : 

And  easy  to  entreat  ; 
Then  submit  yourselves  before    .      , 

He  leaves  the  mercy  seat. 


i 


REFLECTIONS.  117 

REFLECTIONS  ON  SCENES  PASSED  THROUGH  AT  "THREE 
SCORE,"    AND    UPWARDS. 

How  strange  seem  the  scenes  that  have  pass'd  in  our  lives. 

When  arriv'd  at  the  age  of  three  score  ; 
And  memory  freed  from  the  toils  of  the  day, 

Sits  her  down  to  recount  those  scenes  o'er. 

The  big  sigh  is  heav'd,  and  has  flown  off  in  air, 

For  the  soul  by  an  incubus  prest; 
Itself  has  reliev'd,  without  aid  from  the  will, 

And  serenity  reigns  in  the  breast. 

She  points  to  the  scenes  of  our  childhood,  and  lo 

A  group  of  gay  youngsters  arise  ; 
All  blooming  in  vigor,  with  health  on  each  cheek,   [ ;  -' 

And  all  sparkling  with  joy  are  their  eyes. 

•  'i 
Now  who  is  this  group,  so  devoid  of  those  cares, 

Which  intrude  on  a  life  that  is  long  ? 
Why,  memory  says  that  is  you — that  is  me, 

And  we  know  that  she  does  not  say  wrong. 

For  ourselves  have  we  seen  both  once  and  again, 

In  our  children,  and  grandchildren  too ; 
In  their  sports,  their  pastimes,  their  frolics,  their  fun, 

Wondrous  strange  though  it  seems,  yet  'tis  true. 

Now  next  see  her  finger,  how  steady  it  points, 

At  the  scenes  as  we  ripen  in  age  ; 
In  which,  that  we  all  may  be  useful  in  life, 
Though  they  differ,  we  all  must  engage. 

AT 
How  strange  are  those  scenes,  when  so  far  back  they're 

view'd, 

Which,  with  joy  or  with  grief  we've  pass'd  through  ; 
Though  fancy  might  tell  us,  they're  nought  but  a  dream, 
Yet  memory  says  they're  all  true, 

/•' 


118  REFLECTIONS. 

Again  view  her  index  to  manhood  direct, 

And  what  strange  scenes  at  this  stage  of  life  ! 

Now  who  is  that  couple  ?  do,  Memory,  say, 
Why,  you're  the  husband — she  is  your  wife  ! 

How  strange  are  the  trades,  the  professions,  pursuits, 

Mankind  follow  by  day  and  by  night ; 
And  how  strange  it  appears  so  many  act  wrong, 

And  so  few  do  the  thing  that  is  right. 

Now  lastly  behold  her  on  age  fix  her  gaze, 

Such  a  gaze  as  makes  many  afraid  ; 
Who  shrinking  with  horror,  would  fain,  could  it  be, 

Flee  herself  and  her  truth-telling  aid. 

';-  A 
And  say,  who  would  desire  to  live  a  long  life, 

And  then  go  to  give  up  his  account; 
For  sins  of  omission  and  commission  done, 

And  by  no  means  a  trifling  amount  ? 

Now  this  is  the  reas'ning  of  many  a  one, 

And  which  many  has  drove  to  despair; 
And  how  strange  does  it  seem,  that  many  deem'd  wise, 

All  their  lifetime  are  beating  the  air  ? 

.  n.l 

But  plain  is  the  fact,  as  the  sun  at  noon  day,           ^4  tt 

That  sorrow  may  cease,  and  joy  may  flow 
From  a  life  though  long,  if  'tis  righteously  spent, 

In  this  troublesome  world  here  below. 

-;;  eono-jB  etil  I A 
And  when  shall  we  say  a  life's  righteously  spent  ? 

When  both  motive  and  action  are  right ; 
Then  good  men  and  Heaven,  to  declare  it  is  so 

Will  each  fully  and  freely  unite. 

•Jtfvsif 
How  strange  do  the  notions  of  many  folks  seem, 

Who  still  for  morality  cry ; 
And  draw  all  their  motives  with  her  from  below, 

Which  should  come  from  religion  on  high. 


REFLECTIONS.  119 

And  hence  some  seem  doom'd  to  mistake  all  their  lives, 

Whereas  stopping  a  moment  to  pause, 
Would  show  them  how  far  they  are  sure  to  come  short, 

When  effect  is  preferr'd  before  cause. 

'Tis  strange  but  to  think,  and  much  more  so  to  say, 
"  How  extravagant  man  in  his  schemes  ;" 

But  strange  as  it  is,  'tis  certainly  true, 
That  he  surely  is  form'd  of  extremes. 

'Tis  certain  the  universe  has  its  extremes, 

And  though  long  o'er  the  subject  we've  prosM, 

We  come  in  the  end,  to  acknowledge  we  find 
He's  of  matter  and  spirit  compos'd. 

How  strange  are  the  things  that  we  cannot  explain, 

Let  our  guesses  be  ever  so  shrewd ; 
And  so  they'll  remain,  until  they're  at  length 

In  the  light  of  eternity  view'd. 

And  what  would  eternity  ope  to  our  view, 

And  what  knowledge  from  thence  could  we  draw  ? 

Why,  there  we'd  discover  things  just  as  they  are, 
Controlled  by  Heaven's  paramount  law. 

How  strange  does  it  seem,  that  the  sons  of  a  king, 

Are  but  strangers  and  pilgrims  at  best ; 
They  know  that  they  cannot  in  time,  from  time's  things, 

E'er  elicit  a  permanent  rest. 

Their  "  rest  is  polluted" — it  is  so,  of  course, 

In  this  world  of  disorder  and  strife; 
They'll  only  obtain  it,  when  hence  they  depart, 

There's  joy  in  Heav'n,  there's  light,  and  there's  life. 

How  strange,  when  arrived  at  the  regions  of  bliss, 
Will  the  changing  of  worlds  to  them  seem  ; 

For  sorrow  and  pain,  they'll  have  joys  ever  new, 
And  their  souls  bathe  in  love's  limpid  stream. 


120  THE  SCHOLIAD. 

Then  memory  thou  shall  no  more  tell  the  years, 
Late  in  this  vale  of  tears  pass'd  away; 

But  in  Heaven  commence  thine  unceasing  account, 
And  there  flourish  and  never  decay. 

Then  why  should  we  grieve,  if  our  Maker  so  will, 
That  we  long  here  below  should  reside  ; 

If  he  fit  and  prepare  us,  in  Heaven  above, 
To  dwell  with  the  Lamb  and  his  bride  ? 


FRAGMENTS. 


THE    SCHOLIAD, 

Or  the  Franklin  Juvenile  School  in  Rose-street,  A.  D.,  181],  on  the  site 
now  occupied  as  the  Quaker  Meeting. 

PART  I. 

.    -  ><•?  .-.,;• 

As  onward  in  life's  rugged  road  I  jog, 
I'll  sing  the  labours  of  the  Pedagogue, 
Who  view'd  in  learning's  rear,  or  in  its  van, 
Is  still  a  useful,  interesting  man. 
To  whom  the  great,  the  arduous  task's  assign'd, 
"  To  pour  instruction  o'er  the  infant  mind." 
And  should  you  see  him  in  his  work  progress, 
He'd  surely  seem  to  you  a  Hercules  ; 
How  strange  he  should  so  hard  a  trade  pursue, 
Opposed  by  children,  and  by  parents- too. 
Thus  spake  the  teacher,  as  his  eye  glanc'd  o'er, 
The  theme's  prolific,  unexhausted  store, 
Nor  thought  on  Candidus,  who  read  the  while, 
But  now  address'd  him  with  a  gracious  smile, 
Why  prithee,  friend,  what  now  is  in  the  wind, 
'Bout  labour,  learning,  pedagogue,  and  mind  ? 
You  speak  so  fluent,  and  then,  all  in  rhyme, 
Should  I  suspect  your  reason,  where's  the  crime  ? 


THE  SCHOLIAD.  121 

Though  not  diverted  by  this  pleasantry, 

The  Teacher  answer'd  in  a  lower  key  : 

To  some,  perhaps,  surprising  it  may  seem, 

That  I,  since  Education  is  my  theme, 

In  spite  of  precedents,  have  rather  chose 

To  mount  on  Pe^-asus,  than  creep  in  prose  ; 

Yet  you,  my  friend,  who've  known  my  mind  so  long, 

You  know  my  motives,  come  and  join  my  song ; 

You,  like  myself,  this  painful  path  have  trod, 

You  too  have  brandish'd  the  terrific  rod. 

Much  have  you  suffer'd,  both  from  friends  and  foes, 

Counsell'd  by  these,  and  oft  opposed  by  those. 

Come  then,  and  let  us  show  our  harmless  spite, 

By  proving  they  were  wrong  and  we  were  right. 

Then,  Candidus,  where  is  our  recompense, 

To  show  them  fools,  devoid  of  common  sense, 

Who,  since  themselves  once  through  a  school  havepass'd, 

Such  a  vast  sum  of  wisdom  have  amass'd; 

That  could  you  credit  all,  for  truth  they  said, 

They  sure  could  teach  each  pedagogue  his  trade  ? 

But  while  they  grieve  us  with  their  learning's  pride, 

Does  cause  of  blame  with  them  or  us  reside  ? 

Surely,  in  them  ;  they  cause  us  great  vexation, 

And  are  intruders  on  our  occupation. 

For  try  one  once,  with  all  his  boasted  knowledge, 

Say,  if  you  please  a  graduate  from  college, 

Then  place  a  book  politely  in  his  hand, 

And  bid  your  youngest  child  before  him  stand  ; 

You'll  puzzle  him — as  sure  as  fate  you'll  find, 

'Tis  game  too  low  for  his  exalted  mind. 

But  the  true  reason  is,  if  truth  he'd  own, 

Rather  than  teach,  he  would  our  art  be  shown. 

What  though  his  learning  may  to  all  appear — 

Call  you  this  teaching,  one  by  one  to  hear  ? 

Had  I  no  plan  whereby  to  teach  than  this, 

Half  of  my  school  I  quickly  might  dismiss ; 

And  I  would  praise  you  for  this  self-same  act, 

Would  you  quit  theory,  and  stick  to  fact. 

For  into  myst'ry  you  so  deeply  sink, 


122  NEW-YORK  ARSENAL. 

I  of  your  reas'ning  know  not  what  to  think. 
For  your  own  int'rest,  you've  a  right  to  feel ; 
Must  you  defend  it  by  sophistic  zeal  ? 
Nay,  then,  a  truce,  nor  more  of  wrongs  I'll  prate, 
And  cease  in  future  to  vituperate. 
What  I  intended,  when  I  first  began — 
Our  converse  was,  to  open  up  the  plan" 
Which  I've  pursued,  and  which  I  still  retain, 
Farewell — I'll  give  it  when  we  meet  again. 


THE    NEW-YORK    ARSENAL. 

To  feast  his  two  eyes,  with  a  full  intent, 
A  true-bred  Yankee  to  the  Ars'ual  went. 
The  gate  just  opened,  when  with  hand  to  hat, 
Who  should  salute  him,  but  his  old  friend  Platt ; 
Hah  !  glad  to  see  you,  sir,  step  in,  pray  do, 
And  for  yourself,  my  vast  encampment  view  ! 
So  at  the  word  the  warlike  place  they  enter, 
Nor  stop  until  arrived  just  near  the  centre, 
Our  Yankee,  then  a  certain  chose  espied, 
And  turning  round  to  Platt,  close  by  his  side  ; 
That  thing,  there,  yonder,  by  itself,  alone, 
Aye,  that  we  call  the  "  Military  Cone," 
And,  then  these  guns,  how  nicely  they're  paraded, 
My  whim — and  so  the  compliment's  evaded. 


How  long  they  stay'd,  or  further  talk'd,  is  fled ; 
This  much  I  know,  that  General  Platt  is  dead. 


THE  SHIPWRECK.  183 

THE       SHIPWRECK. 
CHORUS  OMNIUM. 

The  friends  of  distress  are  of  every  time, 

Confined  to  no  nation,  no  kingdom,  no  clime ; 

Then  we'll  pledge  Swara's  Consul,  that  friend  of  the  poor, 

And  the  kind-hearted  Rais  Bel  Cossim  the  Moor. 

A  bark  from  Columbia  had  cross'd  the  wide  main, 
To  a  place  up  the  straits,  and  a  part  of  old  Spain ; 
Still  held  by  a  foe,  who  that  hold  mayn't  resign, 
Till  the  sun,  and  the  moon,  and  the  stars  cease  to  shine. 

Then  away  for  the  Island  of  Mayo  they  steer'd, 

But  sought  and  long  look'd  for,  that  Isle  ne'er  appear'd  ; 

A  dense  fog  involv'd  it,  a  strong  current  bore 

The  ill-fated  bark  to  South  Barbary's  shore. 

In  the  dead  of  the  night,  while  the  watch  pac'd  the  deck, 
Nor  dreamed  that  the  bark  would  soon  prove  a  wreck ; 
In  a  moment  she  struck  on  a  high  bank  of  sand, 
The  distance  three  cables  at  least  from  the  land. 

O  think  of  the  dread  of  the  crew  waked  from  sleep, 
Her  bow  on  the  strand,  and  her  stern  in  the  deep; 
While  darkness  Egyptian,  a  darkness  profound, 
Drowns  objects  above,  and  below,  and  around. 

And  when  morning  return'd  it  no  joy  brought^along, 
Although  that  the  vessel  was  still  tight  and  strong ; 
Barr'd  out  from  the  sea,  what  a  pitiful  case, 
While  Blanco's  steep  rocks  stared  them  full  in  the  face. 

Yet  as  darkness  receded  and  lighter  it  grew, 
One  thing  while  it  gladden'd  amazed  the  whole  crew ; 
*         *         Ccetera  desunt.         *         *         * 


124  PRAYER. 

Adieu,  Capt.  Riley,  thy  Swiss  friend  no  more, 
Shall  waft  thee  in  safety  from  old  Mogadore  ; 
No  more  shall  thy  decks  feel  his  ponderous  tread, 
For  thy  Captain  is  number'd,  O  Tell,  with  the  dead. 

But  why  didst  thou  not  to  thy  promise  adhere, 
And  why  swear  an  oath,  and  that  oath  not  revere  ? 
Why  didst  thou  dread  Heaven  provoke  to  decree, 
That  not  on  the  land  thou  shouldst  die,  but  at  sea  ? 

Yet  the  reason  I  know,  and  why  need  I  ask  more? 
Too  large  was  thy  heart,  and  too  scanty  thy  store  ; 
Yet  I  hope  that  thy  reck'ning  proved  straight  in  the  end, 
And  in  Heaven's  fair  climes  I'll  strike  hands  with  my 
friend. 


PRAYER. 

God  nothing  owes  to  fallen  man, 
To  Him  we  all  things  owe  ; 

And  He  whene'er  He  pleases,  can 
On  us  all  good  bestow. 

We  His  dependent  creatures  are, 

And  ev'ry  moment  need 
His  guardian  Providence  and  care> 

To  be  from  danger  freed. 

While  on  our  journey  to  the  sky, 
We're  compassM  round  with  ill ; 

Which  mounts  above,  howe'er  we  try, 
All  human  strength  and  skill. 

Then  why  ashamed  or  why  afraid, 

To  say,  O  God  above, 
Grant  me,  while  here,  Almighty  aid» 

Then  take  me  to  Thy  love  ? 


REFORM.  125 

God  will  be  sought  to  for  His  grace, 

His  grace  we  must  request ; 
Man  earnestly  must  seek  His  face, 

Or  live  and  die  unblest. 


REFORM. 

We're  fallen  on  evil  days, 

The  times  are  evil  indeed ; 
Iniquity  stalks  abroad, 

And  sadly  Reform  we  need  ! 

And  who  the  work  has  begun, 
And  who  has  struck  out  the  plan 

Which  each  of  us  should  pursue  ? 
Pray  let  us  know  who's  the  man. 

And  what  is  reform,  we  would  ask, 
In  what  does  the  practice  consist, 

Our  courses  of  ill  to  amend, 
Nor  longer  to  live  as  we  list. 

For  man  is  evil  by  nature, 

As  he  shows  by  his  daily  walk ; 

And  to  rate  him  higher  than  this, 
Is  certainly  idle  lo  talk. 

Or  is  it  old  forms  to  improve, 

And  fix  them  and  frame  them  anew  ; 
Or  shall  we  our  new  ones  give  up, 

And  once  more  the  old  ones  pursue  ? 

What  sort  of  reform  do  we  need  ? 

I  pray  you  my  friend  to  relate  ; 
Do  we  want  it  alone  in  Church, 

Or  both  in  the  Church  and  the  State  ? 
*•  i  <€::!•: 


THE  DAY  OF  JUDGMENT. 

Ask  the  man  who  tills  the  ground, 
And  what  do  you  say  my  friend ; 

And  when  do  you  think  to  reform, 
And  your  wayward  ways  amend  ? 

We  ought  to  consider  our  ways, 
And  bring  them  out  into  the  light ; 

We  do  wrong  in  thousands  of  ways, 
But  only  in  one  can  do  right. 

The  farmer  refers  you  to  others  : 

Says  he,  "  while  the  seasons  are  good 

What  need  of  reform  while  the  earth 
Yields  a  plentiful  store  of  food  ?" 

. 

Away  to  the  Artist  we  go, 

And  then  of  the  Merchant  inquire, 
Don't  you  think  that  the  times  are  bad, 

And  reform  don't  you  each  desire  ? 

"  Why  bad  enough  sure  are  the  times, 
And  that  to  our  sorrow  we  know  ; 

But" — what,  all  the  question  evade, 
Then  drop  it,  we'll  leave  it  just  so  !: 


THE    DAY    OF    JUDGMENT. 

A  day  will  come,  of  pomp  and  great  parade, 

"  The  day  for  which  all  other  days  were  made." 

The  judgment  day,  emphatically  so, 

Wherein  all  judgments  form'd  before  will  flow  ; 

As  rivers  great,  or  smaller  they  may  be, 

Run  on,  are  lost  and  swallow'd  by  the  sea. 

How  vast  the  view !  while  o'er  the  scene  we  gaze. 

It  fills  the  mind  with  terror  and  amaze  ! 

Before  the  Judge,  behold  on  either  hand, 

THe  countless  millions,  human  beings  stand ; 


THE  DAY  OF  JUDGMENT.  127 

How  pale  the  faces  on  the  left  appear, 

Their  souls  distracted  with  foreboding  fear, 

No  signs  their  eyes  of  an  escape  now  greet, 

Angels  with  flaming  swords  prevent  retreat ; 

As  marshal'd  first,  there  waiting  stand  they  must, 

To  hear  the  dreaded  sentence  of  the  "  Just." 

But  on  the  right  a  different  scene  behold, 

A  sight  so  glorious,  how  can  it  be  told  ? 

Beside  th'  angelic  first-born  sons  of  light, 

Who  still  excel,  as  they  were  form'd  in  might. 

There  stand  those  jewels  to  the  Judge  so  dear, 

And  in  long  ranks  of  shining  white  appear ; 

No  stain  of  sin  on  their  pure  robes  i&  seen, 

In  the  Lamb's  blood  they  wash'd  and  made  them  clean. 

Joyous  each  waits  to  hear  his  sentence  given, 

"  Faithful,  well  done,  come  reign  with  me  in  Heaven." 

How  large  the  triumph,  how  Heaven's  arches  ring, 

While  glorious  souls  in  glorious  bodies  sing. 

Ah,  who  a  glorious  body  can  portray  ? 

Think  ye  'tis  abstract  metaphysics  ?  nay  ! 

Nor  learning  deep  the  wondrous  change  explain, 

Yea,  most  sublime  Philosophy  in  vain 

May  try,  throughout  her  ample  stores  to  find, 

An  image  fit  to  satisfy  the  mind 

Of  him,  who  seeks  in  light  distinct  and  clear, 

To  see  what  doth  not  in  this  life  appear. 

Till  then,  in  Heaven  those  eyes  restor'd  to  sight, 

*  »         *         #         #         *         *         • 

*  *         *         *         *         *         »      .    » 

But,  here,  admonish'd  by  a  friendly  voice, 
We  drop  the  subject,  by  constraint,  not  choice. 


128  DISJECTA  MEMBRA  POET^E. 

ANALECTA. 
DISJECTA  MEMBRA  POET^E. Hor. 

Suppose  into  an  Artist's  shop, 
At  any  time  you  chanc'd  to  stop, 

To  view  the  portraits  he  had  made ; 
He'd  show  you  first  the  finished  ones, 
Fathers  and  mothers,  daughters,  sons, 

Decked  out  in  ev'ry  hue  and  shade. 

Next  those  at  various  times  begun, 
All  incomplete,  some  nearly  done, 

To  wait  a  future  day  ; 
And  these  no  doubt  with  patient  mind, 
The  artist  all  along  design'd  ; 

As  serious  efforts,  not,  of  play. 

And  yet  the  mind  with  labor  tires, 
And  relexation  oft  requires, 

To  nerve  its  energies  once  more ; 
So  round  the  room  we  may  espy, 
A  foot,  a  leg,  an  arm,  an  eye, 

Or  other  parts  strew'd  on  the  floor. 

In  this  last  light,  pray  reader,  view, 
Our  Analecta  through  and  through. 

As  scraps,  or  shreds,  or  to  be  plain, 
"  A  poefs  limbs''' — a  mass  of  rhymes, 
That  sooth'd  his  mind  at  diff'rent  times, 

As  helps  its  vigor  to  regain. 


REFLECTION.  129 

• 

A   WOUNDED   SPIRIT. 

"  The  spirit  of  a  man  may  sustain  his  infirmities,  but  a  wounded  spirit 
who  can  bear?" 

Man  by  his  strength  of  spirit  may 

His  weaknesses  sustain ; 
But  only  wound  that  spirit  once, 

How  can  he  bear  the  pain  ? 


FALSE    APPEARANCES'. 

Satan,  though  he  may  clothe  himself  in  light, 
Is  still  the  devil,  full  of  rage  and  spite. 
Our  Head  he  slew,  his  children  calls  his  own. 
And  would  the  King  of  heav'n  himself  dethrone. 
But  he  is  chain'd,  and  shorter  grows  that  chain, 
He  tries  to  break  it,  but  he  tries  in  vain. 
Rave  on,  once  princely,  tow'ring  son  of  morn, 
Heaven's  safe,  and  laughs  thy  cruel  rage  to  scorn. 
There  is  a  point — beyond  this  world  'tis  found, 
When  heaven's  dread  voice  shall  pierce  the  solid  ground; 
Thou  to  that  point  unwillingly  must  go, 
To  hear  thy  sentence  of  unending  wo — 
Thence  thrust  to  Hell — Heaven's  vengeance  shall  pur 
sue, 
For  ever — thee  and  thine  accursed  crew. 


REFLECTION. 


Sinner — if  thou  wouldst  not  share 
Satan's  portion,  then  beware — 
Now  repent,  begin  to  pray, 
This  is  thy  probation-day  ; 


130  SPEIGHTS. 


Now  to  part  with  sin  consent, 
After  death  none  can  repent. 


A  CAUTION. 


Would  you  escape  the  wrath  impending, 
Break  off  from  sin  and  cease  offending. 


THE    OLD  AND    NEW    MAN. Dwight. 

When  the  new  man  his  work  suspends, 
'Tis  then  the  old  one  his  extends. 


DECISION. 


'Tis  an  old  saying,  older  far  than  me, 
Who  shall  decide,  when  doctors  disagree? 


DANDYISM. 


His  speech  abundant,  useless  words  betray'd, 
Which  folly  /orai'd,  and  custom  current  made. 


SPEIGHTS. 


Many  have  written  and  spoken  of  sprights, 
Who  gambol,  and  frolic,  and  sport  by  nights  ; 


POLITICS.  %        131 

All  on  the  tops  of  the  mountains  so  drear, 
And  make  the  poor  traveller  quake  with  fear. 


BOMBAST. 


Thus  fell  my  brother  on  that  fatal  day, 
And  pass'd  unheeded  from  the  world  away. 


SINCERITY. 


That  he  intends  to  tell  you,  don't  suppose, 
In  plaintive  accents  of  unreal  woes  ; 
Such  thoughts  dwell  not  within  his  honest  heart, 
He  scorns  to  act  a  base  deceiver's  part. 


POLITICS. 

Not  with  political  concerns  he'll  plague  you, 

Bad  news  to  some  you  might  give  the  ague  ; 

And  make  you  feel  so  cold,  that  he,  alas ! 

Might  slip  your  mem'ries  and  unheeded  pass, 

Or  with  your  interests  should  they  coincide, 

'Long  with  the  pleasant  theme  your  thoughts  might  glide ; 

Leave  other  cares  behind  at  distance  far — 

The  poet's  views  would  this  not  tend  to  mar  ? 

If  on  this  ticklish  topic  then  he  enters, 

Full  well  he  knows  that  danger  in  it  centres, 

Knows  'tis  a  masterpiece  of  policy, 

With  politics  to  meddle  cautiously  ; 

But  if  you  wish  them  still — peruse  the  papers, 

And  there  forget  yourselves  and  catch  the  vapours. 


123  YOUTH. 

COLD   WEATHER. 

I  will  not  tell  you  how  rude  Boreas  wars, 
That  may  be  known  by  stepping  out  o'  doors. 
I'm  no  star-gazer,  therefore  won't  offend, 
And  say  the  stars  sad  omens  do  portend; 
Or  threaten  us  with  an  inclement  season, 
For  the  above-said  special  reason. 


MISSPENT   TIME. 

He  spends  the  morning  of  his  precious  time, 
In  pleasure  and  in  perpetrating  crime  ; 
Death  comes  and  meets  the  sinner  in  the  way, 
Extends  his  arm  and  seizes  on  his  prey ; 
Then  his  eyes  open  to  his  lost  estate, 
He  cries  "reprieve" — but  ah  !  he  cries  too  late. 


PAREXTS    AND    CHILDREN. 


Are  parents  treated  in  too  harsh  a  way  ? 
Then  of  their  offspring  not  one  word  we'll  say 


YOUTH. 


For  that  to  youth  you  must  these  trusts  consign, 
Experience  teaches  with  a  voice  divine. 


CONCLUDING  A  PIECE.  133 

PATIENCE   UNDER    SUFFERING. 

Suffer  on  and  out  your  hour, 
Patience  is  the  stiff 'ring  power ; 
Suffer  'lill  your  life  expire, 
Though  it  be  in  flames  of  fire. 
So  when  Death  shall  raise  the  curtain, 
Then  you'll  know  and  feel  for  certain, 
That  with  you  life's  ills  are  o'er, 
And  you  ne'er  shall  suffer  more. 


POTENTIAL    REASONS    ASSIGNED, 

All  subjects  foreign  to  the  main  design 
I  have  in  view,  I  therefore  must  decline. 
My  Muse  too  bids  me  not  to  prosecute 
Another  theme,  or  else  she  says  she's  mute. 
This  sage  advice  then  whispers  in  my  ear, 
And  bids  me  follow  it  as  well  as  hear ; 
"  Do  as  your  betters  long  before  have  done, 
And  learn  to  take  good  care  of  number  one." 
Your  Muse  is  venal  then,  perhaps  you'll  say, 
In  whose  behalf  your  poet  asks  straightway  ? 


CONCLUDING    A    PIECE. 

Now  to  the  point  our  story  hastens  fast, 
Imprimis — always  keep  in  mind  the  past — 
Though  some  might  wish  oblivion's  shade  conceal'd 
Those  deeds  which  their  own  folly  has  reveal'd ; 
And  made  them  subjects  for  a  sneering  world, 
Which  odium  on  their  characters  has  hurl'd. 


194  A  SONNET. 

TRUTH. 


To  think  aright,  much  more  aright  to  speak, 
With  single  eye  Truth  always  let  us  seek — 
Then  whatsoe'er  we  think,  or  say,  or  do, 
The  God  of  Truth  will  bear  us  safely  through. 


POLITENESS. 


For  if  politeness  should  all  actuate, 
Then  of  society  there  rests  the  fate  ; 
'Tis  its  procuring  cause,  as  reason  shows, 
It  to  politeness  its  existence  owes. 


A    SONNET. 

Emblem  of  the  lilly  fair, 

Love  make  her  thy  peculiar  care  ; 

Into  her  ear  the  tenderest  tales, 

Zephyrs  breathe  in  gentlest  gales. 

Tell  her  how  I  pine  and  languish, 

How  my  breast  is  fill'd  with  anguish  ; 

And  creation  dreary  seems, 

Then  at  night  those  restless  dreams. 

Tell  her  I  can  never  rest, 

Till  with  her  consent  I'm  bless'd — 

Tell  her — "  fairest,  let  thy  mind 

To  thy  love-sick  swain  be  kind  ;" 

Then  he  no  more  shall  slighted  love  bemoan, 

Nor  fairest,  dearest,  live  and  die  alone. 


PASSING  OVER  THE  SCHUYLKILL.  135 

THE    WHOLE    DUTY    OF    MAN. 

Would'st  thou  of  thy  whole  duty  know  the  plan  ? 
"Fear  God,  and  his  commandments  keep" — 0  man! 



"  PRAYING  WILL   MAKE    US   LEAVE    OFF  SINNING,  OR,  SIN 
NING   WILL    MAKE    US    LEAVE    OFF    PRAYING." 

Sinners  pray,  why  live  in  sin  ? 

While  you  sin  you  will  not  pray ; 
Timously  the  work  begin, 

Dread  you  not  the  Judgment  day  ? 

, — _ 

ON     PASSING     THE     ONE     ARCHED    BRIDGE     OVER     THE 
SCHUYLKILL,  PA. 

;  U'ltwoib  sew  i\r  io3r,ilT 

The  toll-man  by  the  toll-gate  stood, 

And  open  was  his  hand; 
"  We  wish  to  cross  this  bridge  of  yours, 

How  much  is  your  demand  ?" 

':{          • 

"  One  cent  a-piece  for  each  of  you ;" 

I  quickly  gave  him  two  ; 
When  these  he'd  nimbly  slid  apart 

A  fip  appeared  in  view. 

"  See  there,"  said  he,  "  behold  this  piece, 

Do  take  it  back  again  ; 
That  you  design'd  to  cheat  me  is 

To  be  denied  too  plain." 

I  i  olqoeqoT 

Though  said  in  joke,  I  took  the  hint, 

It  was  a  precious  hit ; 
A  truly  handsome  specimen 

Of  Pennsylvania  wit. 


138  AN  ADDRESS. 

I  onward  mov'd,  and  nought  replied, 
Nor  in  my  turn  was  witty ; 

So  did  not  tell  him  whence  I  came, 
From  York  or  Jersey  City. 

Yet  here  we  might  upon  the  fact, 
By  way  of  caution  say  ; 

Look  at,  examine  well,  before 
Your  change  you  pay  away. 


AN   ADDRESS, 

Written  for  the  "  Rutgers-street  Select  Missionary  Society,"  to  be  spo 
ken  by  a  colored  boy  14  years  of  age,  belonging  to  one  of  the  classes. 

LADIES  AND  GENTLEMEN, 

The  best  of  books  informs  us  all, 

That  once  this  earth  was  drown'd ; 
So  drown'd  that  not  one  living  soul 

Upon  its  face  was  found. 

•  >  ^>t-'f  iV/  ~3 
Yet  that  within  a  spacious  ark, 

By  Heaven  in  safety  kept, 
For  forty  days  eight  human  souls, 

There  ate,  and  drank,  and  slept. 

And  farther,  when  the  rain  held  up, 

And  earth  appear'd  again ; 
They  left  their  ark  upon  the  hill, 

And  went  down  to  the  plain. 

Now  Noah  had  three  sons  alive, 

To  people  earth  once  more  ; 
^  .    And  spread  their  father's  fame  abroad — 
Where'er  a  plant  it  bore. 

a:- 

-  rf  \f\ 

"A1  I   iw 


AN  ADDRESS.  137 

The  one  named  Shem,  in  Asia  stay'd, 

And  this  he  made  his  home ; 
And  Japheth  branching  off  from  thence, 

Did  into  Europe  roam. 

To  Afric's  sultry,  sun-scorch'd  clime, 

Ham's  grandson  found  his  way ; 
And  there  my  sable  ancestors 

Reside  until  this  day. 

But  now  Columbia  is  found  out, 

The  land  with  freedom  bless'd ; 
Here  folks  of  ev'ry  hue  appear, 

And  I  among  the  rest. 

Ladies  and  Gent?,  I've  told  the  truth, 

You  now  have  my  excuse  ; 
Pray  think  how  hard  a  thing  it  is, 

One's  self  to  introduce. 

•  * 
And  now  I  have  some  other  things 

Of  grave  import  to  tell; 
And  shall  I  say  'twill  break  my  heart, 
Unless  you  take  it  well  1 

Believe  me  I'm  no  uwtiquary, 

Yet  this  I'll  say  outright ; 
To  hear  of  mission  things  you  are 

Invited  here  to-night. 

A  mission  is  a  sending  forth 

A  missionary  man; 
To  bring  the  unbelievers  to 

Be  Christians  if  he  can. 

He  takes  his  life  within  his  hands, 

To  barb'rous  lands  he  hies  ; 
And  heat  and  cold,  and  hunger  too, 

He  each  of  them  defies. 


AN  ADDRESS. 


All  these  he  bears,  and  far  much  more, 
Which  cannot  now  be  told  ; 

In  hopes  he  may  some  more  sheep  add,. 
Unto  his  master's  fold. 


And  does  he  labor  all  alone, 
Without  his  chosen  friend  ? 

No,  no,  his  Saviour's  with  him 
Until  the  world  shall  end- 


Yet  he  like  us  is  flesh  and  blood, 

In  want  of  many  things, 
Which  only  can  be  furnished  by 

The  aid  that  mammon  brings. 

Now  here  we've  met  to  celebrate 
Our  annual  mission  night  ; 

To  help  the  man  we've  sent  far  West 
We  ask  you  if  'tis  right  ? 

Four  Classes  we,  in  social  bonds 

United  by  one  heart  ; 
One  color'd,  and  the  three  of  white, 

All  strive  to  do  our  part. 

Yet  though  we  do  our  very  best, 
Still  we  would  have  you  know  ; 

Kind  friends  excuse,  yet  out  it  mus^ 
Our  funds  are  very  low. 

And  shall  our  Saviour  ask  in  vain, 

In  vain  demand  of  you  ; 
And  "  Rutger's  Mission  School  select^ 

And  little  Darky  too  ?" 

It  cannot  be  I  think,  while  I 
Behold  each  smiling  face  ; 

There  is  not  one  that  hears  me  now,. 
That's  so  devoid  of  grace. 


IDLERS.  139 

Then  send,  kind  friends,  some  more  relief, 

And  so  be  ever  bless'd, 
Unto  our  faithful  mission  man, 

Who  labors  in  the  West. 


DO    GOOD. 

What  then  ?  do  all  the  good,  in  time,  you  can, 
There's  always  life  for  ev'ry  living  man. 


RIDICULE    NOT    THE    TEST    OF    TRUTH. 

In  vain  you  fly  to  ridicule, 
Truth  can't  be  tested  by  this  rule. 


WIT    AND   JUDGMENT. 


Wit,  though  stinging,  bushwood  'tis, 
But  Judgment  solid  timber  is. 


SYNTHESIS    AND    ANALYSIS. 

Observe — all  objects,  Synthesis  combines, 
While,  contra-wise  Analysis  disjoins. 


IDLERS. 


Idlers  great  critics  are, 
And  fault  they  always  find 


140  MOTIVE  AND  ACTION. 

They'll  tell  you  how  to  work, 
According  to  their  mind. 

But  let  thrm  feel  the  heat 
And  burden  of  the  day  ; 

The  diffrence  then  we  see, 
Between  to  do,  and  say. 


THE    HUMAN    HEART. 


The  human  heart  —  alas  how  changed  \ 
Once  it  was  right,  but  now  deranged  ; 
He  who  His  works  well  understood, 
At  first  pronounced  them  u  very  good  ;" 
But  man,  pursuing  crooked  ways, 
Is  evil  styled  in  Scripture  phrase. 
His  heart  once  soft  is  turned  to  stone, 
He  cannot  for  his  sins  alone. 
And  should  he  offer'd  grace  despise, 
He'll  die  the  death  that  never  dies. 


MOTIVE  AND  ACTION. 
For  God  seeth  not  as  man  seeth. —  Samuel. 

While  man  regards  the  outward  show, 
Thence  his  decisions  all  must  flow; 
But  God  beholds  the  inward  part, 
He  looks  directly  ai  the  heart. 

Fo  erring  man  sad  mischief  makes. 
And  action  for  the  motive  takes  ; 
With  God,  and  not  as  man  on  earth, 
The  motive  stamps  the  action's  worth. 

- 


VOX  ET  PRjETEREA  NIHIL.  141 

Now  since  within  the  mind  are  things 
That  are  controll'd  by  secret  springs  ; 
Judge  not  too  harshly  foe  nor  friend ; 
But  charity  to  each  extend. 

Then  with  the  gospel  torch  in  hand, 
Attentive  to  its  strict  command, 
Our  motives  purify  we  may, 
And  fit  our  souls  for  endless  day. 


BETTING,    OR  WAGERING. 

If  betting  nothing  can  decide, 
The  practice  then  should  be  decried ; 
For  if  you  lose  or  if  you  get, 
Tis  fact  alone  decides  the  bet. 


"  FIAT  JUSTITIA  RUAT  C(ELUM» 

Let* Justice,  if  strict  and  impartial,  be  done, 

Though  the  Heavens  themselves  into  ruin  should  run. 


"VOX    ET  PR^ETEREA  NIHIL. 

How  mortifying  to  one's  pride, 
To  be  a  voice  and  nought  beside. 


142  THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HOPE. 

ON  THE  PROSPECT  OF    RETURNING    TO  NEW-YORK,  AFTER 
THE    WAR,    IN    1815. 

For  thee,  New-York,  my  much  loved  home  I  sigh, 
There  let  me  live,  O  Heaven,  there  let  me  die. 


THE  WASTER,  OR  THIEF  IN  THE  CANDLE. 

While  at  my  book  my  pen  so  light  I  handle, 
My  wife  cries  out,  "  waster  in  the  candle  !" 
Quick,  get  two  forks,  stick  them  on  either  side, 
And  then  no  smoky  flame  shall  upward  glide. 


. 
THE  SWORD  AND  CANE. 

-*•'  '•'•  ^~-.  :  :-  —^ :r- 

Whene'er  a  soldier  I  behold, 

Why  should  it  give  me  pain  ? 
For  if  i  cannot  wear  a  sword, 
I  surely  may  a  cane. 
.'WOT)  IK(  JmjYcqiiii  hac  J.-vn^'ii  t'>oilr 
ji;n  qjtrri  *  ;  «j;)v 

PORTRAITS  WITHOUT  WIGS. 

Fie  on  the  Painter  and  his  cruel  rigs, 

To  paint  such  great  men  and  forget  their  wigs. 


THE    CHRISTIAN  S    HOPE. 


The  Christian's  hope  is  like  a  Seraph's  smile, 
It  can  misfortune's  darkest  hours  beguile  ; 
Nor  can  it  perish  while  his  life  shall  last ; 
"  Within  the  vale  it  is  an  anchor  cast  •" 


A  TOAST.  143 

There  sure  and  steadfast  his  firm  hope  abides, 
Until  his  soul  the  storms  of  life  outrides  : 
All  other  hopes  delusive  are  and  vain, 
Begun  in  pleasure,  ending  still  in  pain. 


KINDNESS. 


Such  is  the  texture  of  the  human  mind, 

It  rhymes  in  fact,  as  well  as  verse  with — kind. 


THE    WORLD  S   EPITAPH. 

Ah  !  hard  and  harsh  and  cruel  world, 
Thou  wilt  at  last  in  smoke  be  curled , 
Thy  crimes  are  great,  they  mount  the  sky, 
And  call  for  vengeance  from  on  high. 
Ah!  cruel  world,  go  on — offend — 
Till  fire  consuming  proves  thine  end. 


THE   OLD  MAN'S    REFLECTION    UPON    A  CHILD'S  TREADING 
ON    HIS    TOES. 

Our  children  when  young  oft  tread  on  our  toes, 

Yet  this  we  forget  nor  count  with  our  woes  ; 

But  when  they're  grown  up  comes  the  keenest  of  smarts, 

For  then  they're  prepared  to  tread  on  our  hearts. 

;>w  ,bi 

A    NATIONAL    TOAST. 

Here's  "  Uncle  Sam" — and  his  mistress  beside  'im, 
A  beautiful  couple  let  who  will  deride  'em  ; 


144  QUEEN  VICTORIA. 

Her  name  is  "  Liberty?  free  from  pollution, 

May  they  live  all  their  days  with  a  sound  "  Constitution" 


QUEEN   VICTORIA,  AND    HER    MARRIAGE    WITH    PRINCE 
ALBERT. 

Old  England's  Queen, 
Fair  Victorine, 

Hear  how  she  sighs  ! 
Look  out  gallants, 
A  mate  she  wants, 

A  crown's  the  prize. 

The  plan  arranged, 
The  scene  is  changed ; 

All  bright's  the  one  ; 
Time  onward  flows, 
A  daughter  shows, 

But  not  a  son. 

What's  to  be  done  ? 
We'll  see  anon, 

Which  will  prevail ; 
Old  time  mayhap, 
May  show  a  chap, 

A  sturdy  male ; 

Who  living,  may 
The  sceptre  sway 

O'er  Albion. 
Then  Britons  say, 
"  O  Lord,  we  pray, 

Give  us  a  son." 


MARRIED  HARMONY.  145 

INSCRIBED  IN  AN  ANNUAL   PRESENTED  TO  MISS 
»•  * 

An  annual  comes  but  once  a  year, 
Yet  comes  to  bring  its  annual  cheer. 
Sweet  maid  accept  both  will  and  deed, 
And  for  my  sake  this  annual  read. 


MARRIED    HARMONY. 

Worthy  persons  were  they  both, 

As  any  in  the  place ; 
And  as  happy  might  have  lived, 

If  they  had  had  the  grace. 

To  compromise  their  feelings, 
Nor  try  conviction's  pow'r, 

Agreement  would  have  lasted 
Throughout  each  day  and  hour. 


'    •.-- 


A  BRIEF  HISTORY 

OF   THE 

LIFE     OF     THE     AUTHOR 

OF 

THE    SPECIMENS, 

From  the  time  of  his  Birth  to  the  year  1841 , 


ARGUMENT, 

The  Author,  born  in  the  State  of  New-Jersey,  comes  at  the  age  of  eight 
years  to  reside  in  the  City  of  New-York. 

THE  Author  is  unable  to  trace  his  ancestry  any  further 
back  than  to  his  Great  Grandfather,  and  of  him  he  has 
learned  no  more,  than  that  he  came  from  the  City  of  Lon 
don,  and  settled  in  one  of  the  Eastern  States  ;  but  in 
which  particular  one  he  was  never  given  to  understand, 
His  Grandfather,  Ishmael  Shippey,  and  his  Grandmo 
ther,  whose  maiden  name  was  Elizabeth  Briggs,  came 
•  from  Rhode  Island,  probably  some  twenty  or  thirty  years 
before  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  to  reside  in  that  part 
of  the  State  of  New- Jersey,  which  is  called  Raritan  Land-^ 
ing. 

This  small  Village  is  situated  near  the  Raritan  River, 
about  two  miles  above  the  City  of  New-Brunswick.  In 
this  village,  the  Author's  father,  John  Shippey,  was  (he 
believes)  born,  and  he  is  certain  that  he  lived  and  died 
there,  in  the  year  1808,  at  the  age  of  sixty  years.  The 
Author's  mother, ^whose  maiden  name  was  Phoebe  Goss- 


148  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

ner,  came  from  the  mountains,  a  few  miles  above  Bound- 
brook,  which  is  five  miles  distant  from  the  Raritan  Land 
ing,  and  up  the  River  Raritan.  By  her  lineage  she  was 
German,  as  is  clearly  indicated  by  her  family  name, 
Gossner ;  so  that  the  Author  claims  kindred  with  Eng 
land  on  his  father's,  and  with  (Germany  on  his  mother's  side. 

According  to  information  received  from  his  mother, 
the  Author  was  born  at  the  above  named  village,  on  the 
first  day  of  February,  1778,  and  shortly  thereafter  was 
christened  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Reed,  Pastor  of  the  Congre 
gation  of  Non-Conformists,  originally  called  Presbyteri 
ans,  from  their  admitting  lay-Elders  into  their  church 
government,  at  Boundbrook ;  his  parents  being  of  that 
persuasion. 

The  peculiar  state  of  the  times,  no  doubt,  contributed 
materially  in  determining  the  choice  of  the  Authors  pre- 
nomen.  The  British  and  Hessians  had  possession  of 
this  part  of  Jersey ;  the  Author's  father  was  in  the  station 
of  Lieutenant  and  Adjutant  of  the  Woodbridge  Brigade, 
commanded  by  General  Kurd,  in  the  service  of  the  Uni 
ted  States  ;  his  uncle  Josiah,  in  England,  whither  he  had 
been  sent  for  trial  as  a  rebel  against  the  government  of 
his  most  sacred  Majesty,  fidei  defensor,  &c.,*  George  the 
Third  ;  and  the  Author  being  the  only  surviving  male 
child  of  his  parents,  was,  as  he  presumes,  for  these,  and 
perhaps  other  determining  reasons,  christened  Josiah. 

With  this  name  the  Author  has  always  been  pleased, 
and  knew  its  signification,  long  before  Bailey  informed 
him  that  it  denoted  the  "fire  of  the  Lord"  and  "a  pious 
king  of  Judah."  :i \. 

Passing  over  many  occurrences  which  might  prove  un 
interesting  to  the  reader — the  Author  contents  himself 
with  observing,  generally,  on  this  part  of  his  history — 
that,  the  war  being  ended  in  1782,  and  the  independence 
of  the  United  States  of  America  acknowledged  by  the 
parent  country,  Great  Britain ;  his  father  rebuilded  his 
house,  which  had  been  burned  by  the  British  and  Hes- 

*  Defender  of  the  Faith,  a  title  given  by  Pope  Leo  X.  to  King  Henry 
VIII,  of  England,  for  writing  against  Luther. 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  149 

sians,  after  they  had  used  it  for  a  barrack ;  and  being 
comfortably  situated  on  his  small  farm  of  upland  and 
meadow,  on  the  Raritan  river,  about  one  mile  and  a  half 
from  the  City  of  New  Brunswick  ;  the  Author  was  sent 
to  the  village  school  to  acquire  the  rudiments  of  an  Eng 
lish  elementary  education,  where  he  continued  until  the 
eighth  year  of  his  age. 

In  the  interim  the  Author's  uncle  had  returned  from 
England,  having  been  acquitted  of  the  charge  of  rebellion, 
on  the  representation  of  some  refugee  New- York  mer 
chants,  i  hat  he  was  "  one  of  the  most  peaceable  men  in 
America," — he  commenced  mercantile  business  in  the 
stone  store,  at  the  S.  E.  corner  of  \\  ater-sireet  and  Coen- 
ties  Slip,  in  partnership  with  Messrs.  Thomas  Ten  Eyck 
and  Edmund  Seaman,  under  the  firm  of  "  Josiah  Shippey 
&  Co."  They  were  in  the  Holland  and  East  India  trade. 
Growing  tired,  however,  of  keeping  "  Bachelor's  Hall," 
with  his  German  servant,  John  Francis  Hamslinger,  who 
had  been  a  soldier  in  the  British  army,  he  ser.t  a  request 
to  his  eldest  unmarried  sister,  my  aunt  Mary,  to  come  to 
New-York,  and  bring  the  Author  with  her,  and  lake  the 
charge  of  the  house  he  had  rented  in  Pearl-street,  near 
the  Battery.  His  request  was  complied  with  on  the  part 
of  his  sister  ;  and  the  Author  accompanying  his  aunt,  ar 
rived  with  her  at  New- York,  the  place  of  their  destina- 
tion,  some  time  in  the  spring  of  1786, 


The  Author  is  sent  to  School,  and  from  thence  to  Columbia  College. 
His  Uncle  and  Aunt  remove  to  New-Jersey,  taking  with  them  the  Au 
thor.  They  return  to  New-York.  The  Author  goes  into  the  store  with 
his  Uncle,  continues  there  awhile,  and  then  returns  to  Columbia  Col 
lege,  where  he  graduated  in  the  year  1796. 

AND  now,  courteous  Reader,  imagine,  if  you  can,  the 
sensations  produced  in  the  mind  of  the  Author,  by  a  tran 
sition  from  an  obscure  country  village  to  a  large  and 
populous  city,  at  his  particularly  tender  time  of  life. 

But  his  business  at  present  is  rather  to  consist  in  a 
«* 


150  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

narration  of  facts,  than  in  the  indulgence  of  fanciful  con 
jectures.  His  Uncle  having  arranged  with  Mr.  Malcolm 
Campbell,  a  teacher  of  English  and  Latin,  the  Author 
was  sent  to  his  school,  then  kept  on  Golden  Hill,  John- 
street,  near  Cliff-street — to  be  by  him  instructed  suffi 
ciently  to  enable  him  to  enter  Columbia  College,  as  a 
student  in  that  literary  establishment. 

The  Author  would  here  observe,  that  this  arrangement 
in  his  favor  was  rather  in  accordance  with  the  wishes  of 
his  Aunt,  than  with  the  designs  of  his  Uncle  ;  his  views 
were  more  mercantile  than  classical.  On  the  contrary, 
his  Aunt,  being  a  pious  God-fearing  woman,  a  communi 
cant  of  Dr.  John  Rogers'  church  in  Wall-street,  feeling 
that  one  of  the  fondest  wishes  of  her  heart  would  be  grat 
ified,  if  she  could  see  her  nephew  in  the  ministry,  per 
suaded  her  brother  to  give  him  a  liberal  education.  But 
Providence  did  not  permit  her  to  realize  the  fruit  of  her 
benevolent  intentions  toward s  her  nephew  ;  she  died,  he 
thinks,  of  the  yellow  fever  of  '98,  and  was  buried  in  her 
native  state,  the  state  of  New-Jersey,  at,  or  near  the  city 
of  New  Brunswick. 

May  she  be  his  guardian  angel  now,  as  she  most  as 
suredly  was  while  on  this  earth ;  for  she  loved  him,  if 
possible,  with  more  than  maternal  fondness  ;  a  fondness 
which  extended  beyond  this  vale  of  tears,  penetrating  to 
the  throne  of  the  heavenly  grace  ;  and  there  supplicating 
with  fervent  and  effectual  prayer  the  regeneration  of  his 
immortal  soul. 

To  return : — ,\t  the  age  of  thirteen  years,  the  Author's 
preceptor  reported  him  prepared  to  enter  College,  and, 
accordingly,  with  his  schoolmate,  afterwards  the  Rev. 
James  Inglis,  he  did  enter  the  Freshman  class,  and  had 
his  place  assigned  him,  number  four  among  thirty-two, 
the  number  of  which  that  class  originally  consisted. 

It  is  not  the  intention  of  the  Author,  neither  ought  it 
to  be  expected,  in  giving  this  succinct  account,  or  history 
of  his  life,  to  enter  as  minutely  into  particulars,  as  though 
he  were  writing  a  narrative  which  would  swell  a  volume 
to  many  hundred  pages. 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  151 

He  must,  therefore,  only  glance,  with  almost  as  much 
brevity  at  the  events  of  a  life  of  upwards  of  threescore 
years  continuance,  as  do  the  arguments  with  which  each 
chapter  is  prefaced. 

In  continuation,  then,  he  informs  his  readers  that  after 
remaining  with  his  class  about  eighteen  months,  his  Un 
cle  and  Aunt  removed-to  the  place  of  their  nativity,  in 
New- Jersey,  taking  with  them  the  Author,  and  his  broth 
er  William  ;  and  after  a~short  stay  of  about  six  months, 
returned  to  New-York,  and  again  commenced  housekeep 
ing. 

The  Author  continued  with  his  Uncle  and  Aunt ;  his 
brother  was  put  into  the  Counting  House  of  Mr.  Nicholas 
Hoffman,  an  importing  merchant,  and  part  owner  of  the 
Ship  Ellis;  whether  immediately  after,  or  at  some  time 
subsequently  to  the  return  to  New- York,  the  Author  does 
not  now  recollect.  *  ( 

His  Uncle,  being  a  man  of  activity  and  enterprise, 
soon  re-embarked  in  trade,  and  commenced  the  Salt  bu 
siness,  with  Mr.  James  Van  Dyke,  under  the  firm  of  Van 
Dyke  and  Shippey,  in  Front-street,  near  Coenties  Slip, 
The  Author  went  into  the  store  as  a  Clerk,  and  so  con 
tinued  for  about  the  space  of  one  year,  when  a  difference 
arising  between  him  and  the  senior  partner  of  the  firm, 
he  quitted  their  employ. 

His  kind  Aunt,  steady  to  her  original  purpose,  persua- 
ded  the  Author  to  return  to  College  ;  application  was 
made  by  his  Uncle  to  the  Trustees,  and  they  in  consid 
eration  of  his  former  good  standing,  permitted  him  to  en 
ter  the  class  next  below  the  one  in  which  he  originally 
entered.  And  this  may  serve  to  satisfy  any  person,  de 
sirous  of  being  informed  on  the  subject,  why  the  Author 
entered  in  one  class,  and  graduated,  as  per  the  Catalogue 
of  Columbia  College,  in  another,  in  the  year  1796, 


152  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


The  Author  returns  to  the  Counting  House.  Dissolution  of  Partnership, 
The  Author  becomes  a  married  man.  Yellow  fever  in  1803.  Return 
to  New- York.  Enters  into  business  in  partnership,  as  a  wholesale 
and  retail  Grocer. 

The  business  of  cultivating  the  intellect  at  College 
having  come  to  a  close,  and  the  Author  declining  the  of 
fer  of  his  Uncle  to  furnish  him  with  the  means  to  prose 
cute  his  studies  in  either  of  the  learned  professions  he 
might  select;  it  was  agreed  that  he  should  re-enter  the 
Counting  House,  and  study  the  profession  of  Merchan 
dizing,  under  his  Uncle  and  his  partner.  In  this  employ 
the  Author  continued  until  a  dissolution  of  partnership 
took  place.  Mr.  Van  Dyke  being  an  aged  man,  retired 
from  business  and  the  bustle  of  New-York  to  the  State 
of  New-Jersey,  and  ended  his  days  in  the  pleasant  City 
of  Newark,  situated  near  the  banks  of  the  Passaic, 
about  eight  miles  from  New-York. 

The  Author  continued  in  the  employ  of  his  Uncle  un 
til  the  year  1800,  when,  being  tired  of  leading  a  single 
life,  he  took  unto  himself  a  wife,  and  so,  on  the  28th  day 
of  August,  the  same  year,  became  a  married  man.  By 
this  wife  he  had  issue,  nine  childien,  viz  :  six  sons  and 
three  daughters,  three  of  the  sons  died  in  the  birth  ;  the 
remaining  children  were  born  in  the  City  of  New-York, 
except  one  daughter,  who  was  born  in  Belleville,  New- 
Jersey,  during  the  Yellow v  Fever  which  prevailed  in 
New- York,  in  1803. 

Shortly  after  the  return  of  the  Author,  "with  his  family 
from  New- Jersey,  some  time  early  in  the  Spring  of  1804, 
he  entered  into  partnership  with  Major  Samuel  Cooper, 
in  the  wholesale  and  retail  Grocery  business,  under  the 
firm  of  Cooper  and  Shippey,  at  Coenties  Slip,  east  side 
near  Front-street.  In  this  firm  the  Author  continued 
about  eight  months,  and  then  dissolved.  The  cause  of 
this  dissolution  was  the  want  of  sufficient  capital  to  car 
ry  on  the  business  advantageously  enough  for  the  sup 
port  of  two  families. 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  153 

The  business  was  not  a  City,  but  a  Country  business ; 
the  Country  merchants  were  tardy  in  making  their  re 
mittances,  and  the  payment  of  the  notes  given  for  Spring 
and  Fall  purchases,  could  not  be  evaded.  More  capital 
was  required,  and  this  the  Author  could  not  supply ;  his 
Uncle's  affairs  having  become  embarrassed  by  his  incau 
tiously  bonding  and  endorsing  for  several  merchants  in 
New- York,  to  an  amount  which  swept  away  his  fast 
property  and  other  resources,  and  obliged  him  to  begin 
the  world  anew.  Dissolution  of  partnership,  therefore, 
or  failure  became  absolutely  unavoidable  ;  and  the  first 
was  resorted  to,  in  preference  to  the  latter. 

The  Author  stops  not  to  comment  on  the  beautiful  ef 
fects  produced  by  the  "  credit  system"  in  New- York  and 
elsewhere  ;  nor  to  lament  the  loss  of  property,  which,  for 
several  years,  he  helped  his  Uncle  to  acquire,  and  to  a 
part  of  which,  at  least,  as  his  adopted  son,  he  thought 
himself  entitled ;  but  would  merely  inform  the  reader, 
that  at  this  period  the  dissolution  of  the  firm  of  Cooper 
and  Shippey,  wholesale  and  retail  Grocers,  &c.,  termin 
ated,  doubtless,  for  ever  the  mercantile  career  of  the  Au 
thor  of  the  Specimens,  and  Notes  to  the  same. 


The  Author  commences  Clerk  on  his  own  account.  Becomes  reli 
gious,  and  joins  the  Af .  E.  Church  in  New  York.  Is  appointed  Clerk 
of  the  Alms  House,  Clerk  of  the  N.  Y.  Hospital,  and  is  afterwards  re- 
appointed  Clerk  of  the  A.  H.,and  Clerk  to  the  Commissioners  of  the 
same.  Leaves  the  A.  H.  and  commences  School-keeping. 

THE  first  clerkship  the  Author  obtained  was  one  with 
Hoffman,  Seton,  &  Co.,  auctioneers  in  Wall-street. 
But  this  being  an  out-door  one,  and  producing  only  a 
small  per  diem  compensation,  the  Author  gladly  accept 
ed  the  proposal  of  the  Superintendent  of  the  Alms  House, 
his  friend,  and  brother.  Methodist,  Philip  J.  Arcularius, 
Esq.,  to  apply  to  the  Corporation  forthe  clerkship  of  that 
Institution.  He  applied  accordingly,  and  received  the 
appointment  -of  Clerk  to  the  Alms  House,  he  thinks  on 


154  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

the  fifth  day  of  June  1 805,  at  a  salary  of  $500  per  annum, 
and  perquisites. 

This  appoinlment  was  a  seasonable  relief  to  the  Author, 
his  family  at  this  time,  including  himself,  amounting  to 
five  in  number. 

And  here  the  Author  is  admonished  to  correct  an  an 
achronism,  or,  "an  error  in  placing  a  fact  or  event  later 
than  it  really  was,"  and  that  is  the  time  of  his  becoming 
a  Methodist.  He  thinks  this  event  must  have  occurred 
at  least  two  years  previously  to  his  appointment  as  Clerk 
of  the  Alms  House.  The  Records  of  the  Church  could 
determine  this  ;  yet  he  well  remembers  that  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Morrell,  was  Minister  at  the  Old  Methodist 
Church  in  John-street,  when  his  wife  and  he  went  for 
ward  and  joined  themselves  to  the  connexion.  He  also, 
on  further  reflection,  remembers,  while  at  Belleville,  dur 
ing  the  fever  of  1803,  his  acquaintance  with  the  Rev. 
John  Dowe,  Methodist  Minister  at  that  place.  So  then, 
courteous  Reader,  the  Author  was  a  Methodist  before  he 
was  appointed  Clerk  of  the  Alms  House.  Have  the 
goodness  therefore,  to  pardon  the  anachronism  in  his  ar 
gument,  and  permit  him  to  proceed,  straight  forward  in 
his  history. 

In  this  same  year,  180o,  the  city  of  New-York  was 
visited  wiih  that  much  dreaded  calamity,  the  yellow  fever. 
The  Health  Office  was  at  the  corner  of  Chambers-street 
and  Broadway,  and  every  evening  the  book  of  the  day's 
transactions  was  sent  to  the  Alms  House,  that  the  Clerk 
might  attend  to  the  calls  for  orders  to  the  Keeper  of  Pot 
ter's  Field,  and  Coffins  and  Hearse.  Inconsequence  of 
which  arrangement  the  Author,  for  the  space  of  six  weeks, 
never  slept  in  a  bed;  but  took  his  repose,  leaning  his  head 
on  the  Office  table.  Besides  which,  the  Health  Officers 
having  ordered  him  to  bring  his  family  into  the  Alms 
House,  his  wife  while  there,  took  the  fever,  but  recover 
ed  shortly  thereafter.  For  this  extra  service,  not  long 
after  the  fever  had  ceased  its  ravages  in  the  city,  the 
Corporation  raised  his  salary  to  $600. 

The  Author  continued  in  this  service  until  the  Super-. 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  155 

intendent  was  displaced  by  another  Corporation,  calling 
themselves  Federal ;  he,  P.  J.  Arcularius,  Esq.  having 
had  the  office  for  two  years,  viz.  1805  and  1806. 

The  former  Superintendent,  Richard  Furman,  Esq., 
Being  reappointed,  and  wishing  to  have  again  his  Private 
Clerk,  George  A  Valentine,  the  Author  applied  for,  and 
obtained  the  Clerkship  of  the  New- York  Hospital,  Jo- 
tham  Post,  Esq.  being  the  then  Superintendent  of  that 
Institution.  The  Author  continued  in  this  situation  for 
thirteen  months,  fulfilling  the  duties  of  Clerk  to  the  Hos 
pital,  and  Check-clerk  for  the  "  Asylum  for  the  Insane," 
then  in  building  for  the  second  year,  receiving  $600  per 
annum,  and  a  house  to  live  in,  in  Barley-street,  now  called 
Duane-street. 

The  Corporation  becoming  Republican  again,  the  Au 
thor  was  reappointed  to  his  old  situation  and  resumed  its 
duties ;  and  a  new  Board  of  Commissioners  being  ap 
pointed  by  the  Corporation,  they  appointed  him  their 
Clerk,  at  a  compensation  that  raised  his  whole  salary  to 
$700  per  annum.  In  this  employ  he  continued  during  the 
two  years  Superintendency  of  William  Mooney,  Esq. 
The  Corporation,  becomingonce  more  Federal,  andRich- 
ard  Furman,  Esq.  reappointed  Superintendent,  the  Au 
thor  resigned  his  Clerkship,  and  commenced  the  business 
of  teaching  school. 


The  Author  teaches  school  for  about  two  years  in  New-York.  Removes 
to  Herkimer.  War  breaks  out.  -Leaves  Herkimer  and  comes  to  Al 
bany.  Is  Clerk  to  his  Excellency  the  Governor.  Peace  proclaimed. 
Returns  to  New-York  with  his  family. 

THE  Author,  considering  a  Clerkship  as  rather  a  pre 
carious  mode  of  obtaining  a  living;  determined  to  try 
what  success  might  attend  his  labors  in  teaching  a  school. 

He  felt  satisfied  that  his  education  abundantly  fitted 
him  for  such  an  undertaking.  Without  suspecting,  how 
ever,  the  immense  responsibility  attached  to  this  mode  of 
life,  and  the  many  vexations  with  which  it  is  attended; 


i 


156  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

he  purchased  the  good  will  of  the  Bunker  Hill  Academy, 
kept  by  a  Mr.  John  W.  Purdy,  in  Mulberry,  near  Grand- 
street.  And  now  no  longer  either  "  1'tochotrophii  vel 
Nosocomii  scriba"*  but  the  Principal  of  a  promiscuous 
English  elementary  school;  he  felt,  or  at  least,  began  to 
experience,  that  feeling  so  characterestic  of  men  of  his 
new  profession,  the  feelings  of  a  pedagogue. 

As  he  commenced  in  the  month  of  February,  (1810,) 
and  the  weather  moderating  with  the  increased  length  of 
the  days,  his  school  increased  proportionally  in  number, 
so  that  before  the  close  of  Summer,  he  numbered  nearly 
one  hundred  scholars.  But  as  Winter  approached,  the 
number  of  scholars  began  to  diminish,  owing  to  the  cir 
cumstance  of  many  of  ihem  living  at  a  distance  from  the 
school.  Besides  the  rent  of  the  school-house  was  high, 
and  the  income  of  the  school  did  not  sufficiently  compen 
sate  for  the  labor  of  teaching. 

This  induced  the  Author  to  request  an  old  school-mate 
of  his,  now  grown  rich,  and,  consequently,  influential,  to 
procure  to  be  raised  for  him  from  among  his  numerous  and 
highly  respectable  friends  and  acquaintances,  "a  select 
school,"  to  be  located  lower  down  in  the  City.  This  his 
interest  and  recommendation  soon  procured"  for  the  Au 
thor;  and  he  opened  his  school  in  the  building  that  then 
occupied  the  site  of  the  present  Quaker  Meeting-House 
in  Rose-street,  with  about  one  hundred  scholars  of  both 
sexes.  The  number  of  scholars  soon  increased  to  two 
hundred  and  ten ;  and  the  Author  might  have  realized  the 
height  of  his  wishes  both  in  celebrity  as  a  teacher,  and 
in  the  pay  he  received  for  his  services  ;  but  the  cupid 
ity  of  a  few  of  his  self-created  trustees,  entirely  defeated 
his  exertions,  and  prostrated  for  ever  the  growing  useful 
ness  of  the  "  Franklin  Juvenile  School,"  in  Rose-street ; 
so  that  when  the  Author  visited  New-York  during  the 
War,  he  found  his  old  school-room  entirely  deserted. 

There  silence  and  solitude  reign'd, 
The  Thirteen  their  object  had  gain'd. 

*  Clerk  of  Alms  House  or  Hospital. 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  157 

They  had  changed  an  American  plan  for  an  English 
one,  under  the  Lancasterian  mode  of  teaching. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1812,  the  Author  removed  with 
his  family  to  Herkimer,  to  take  the  charge  of  the  Acade 
my  in  that  place.  The  village  afforded  him  rising  of  a 
hundred  scholars,  at  one  dollar  and  fifty  cents  each,  per 
quarter.  But  the  War  breaking  out,  the  children  were 
withheld,  and  the  school  was  broken  up. 

The  Author  represented  by  letter,  his  case,  to  his  Ex 
cellency,  the  Governor  ;  and  he  invited  him  to  come  to 
Albany  in  the  ensuing  Spring,  and  to  enter  into  his  em 
ploy  as  one  of  his  clerks.  Accordingly,  in  the  month  of 
June,  1813,  the  Author  removed  with  his  family  to  Al 
bany,  became  Clerk  to  his  Excellency,  and  continued  in 
his  service  until  the  peace  in  1815^  when  he  returned 
with  his  family  to  New-York,  after  an  absence  of  nearly 
three  years. 


The  Author  becomes  Deputy  Clerk  of  the  Court  of  Sessions.  Goei 
into  a  Counting  House.  Is  appointed  Clerk  to  the  Commissioners  of 
the  Alms  House.  Is  appointed  Assistant  Book-keeper  of  the  United 
States  Branch  Bank.  Writes  for  Common  Council.  Goes  again  into  a 
Counting  House ;  shortly  after  leaving  which,  he  loses  his  wife,  and 
consequently  becomes  a  widower. 

Not  long  after  his  return  from  Albany,  the  Author  was 
engaged  by  Colonel  Robert  Macomb,  one  of  Governor 
Tornpkins  aids,  and  his  old  schoolmate,  and  brother  to 
the  present  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  United  States 
Army,  Major  General  Alexander  Macomb,  as  his  Depu 
ty  in  the  Court  of  Sessions ;  and  continued  with  him 
eight  months,  when  he  left,  him ;  the  Colonel  choosing  to 
perform  the  whole  of  the  duties  of  the  office  himself. 

From  this  employ  the  Author  went  into  the  Counting, 
House  of  Messrs.  Dunlap  and  Grant,  importing  mer 
chants  in  Greenwich-street,  to  post  their  Journal. 

Mr.  Dunlap  having  been  in  Europe  during  the  War, 
all  the  business  of  the  firm  devolved  on  Mr.  Grant,  and 


158  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

so  the  Journal  remained  unposted ;  to  perform  which 
operation  he  employed  the  Author  for  four  months. 

Having  finished  this  engagement,  the  Author  applied 
for  and  obtained  the  appointment  of  clerk  to  the  Commis 
sioners  of  the  Alms  House,  at  a  salary  of  $500  per  annum. 
They  had  their  office,  at  this  time,  in  that  part  of  the  old 
Alms  House  now  occupied  by  the  United  States  District 
Court. 

After  continuing  with  the  Commissioners  about  six 
months,  the  Author  obtained  through  the  recommenda 
tion  of  his  old  and  firm  friend,  his  Excellency,  D.  D. 
Tompkins,  then  Vice  President  of  the  United  States, 
the  appointment  of  an  assistant  book-keeper  in  the  Uni 
ted  States  Branch  Bank,  at  a  salary  of  $1000  per  annum. 
In  this  situation  the  Author  remained  during  the  years 
1817,  18, 19,  and  part  of  20,  when  a  retrenchment  of  ex 
penditure  by  a  reduction  of  the  number  of  officers  in  the 
Mother  Bank  and  its  different  branches  took  place  ;  and 
the  Author  was  among  the  number  of  the  dismissed. 

The  cause  that  induced  the  necessity  of  this  turning 
out  of  officers,  without  alleging  any  crime  to  their  charge, 
was  the  poverty  of  the  Institution — from  its  inability  to 
discount  the  paper  which  had  been  offered. 

The  next  employment  the  Author  obtained,  according 
to  the  best  of  his  recollection,  was  the  writing  up  the  min 
utes  of  the  Common  Council,  for  General  Jacob  Morton, 
at  that  time  Clerk  of  the  Board.  This  duty  he  continued 
to  perform  for  about  one  year,  when  he  quitted,  and  went 
into  the  Counting  House  of  Mr.  George  Suckley,  im 
porter  of  small  cutlery  from  Sheffield. 

Mr.  S.  kept  his  office  in  his  own  store,  in  Pine-Street, 
next  door  to  the  corner  of  William-Street,  opposite  the 
Bank  CofTee-House,  then  kept  by  William  Niblo. 

The  Author  continued  with  Mr.  Suckley  about  eigh 
teen  months,  when,  in  consequence  of  his  relinquishing 
business,  the  Author  quitted  his  employ. 

In  the  following  year,  on  the  23d  day  of  November, 
1823,  the  wife  of  the  Author  departed  this  life,  aged  48 
years,  after  having  kept  house  together  for  the  space  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  159 

twenty-three  years  and  three  months,  leaving  the  Author 
a  widower  with  six  children. 

The  Author  feels  satisfied  that  his  companion  died  in 
the  Faith  of  the  Gospel;  and  he  continues  to  live  in  the 
expectation  that  when  the  days  of  his  pilgrimage  are  end 
ed,  and  he  is  called  to  take  the  "  parting  hand  with  the 
things  of  time  and  sense,"  he  shall  go  to  meet  her  ran 
somed  disembodied  spirit  in  the  fair  climes  of  bliss  and 
glory  above ;  and  with  her  enjoy  those  "  eternal  good 
things  which  are  laid  up  in  store  for  all  the  finally  faith 
ful,  perserveringfollowers  of  the  Lamb,  while  eternal  ages 
cease  not  to  roll  their  everlasting  rounds." 


TI>c  Author  embarks  a  second  time  on  the  sea  of  Matrimony.  His  dif- 
ferent  employments  as  a  Clerk,  &c.,  during  a  lapse  of  sixteen  years; 
which  brings  him  to  the  period  promised  in  the  title  page  of  his  Spe 
cimens,  and  to  the  conclusion  of  the  brief  history  of  his  life. 

Metaphorically,  or  figuratively  speaking,  Matrimony 
is  a  sea  ;  and  though  like  the  natural  sea  it  abounds  with 
dangers  not  only  hidden,  but  also,  apparent,  yet  thou 
sands  adventure  on  it  daily,  fearless  of  the  consequences 
that  may  attend  the  experiment. 

And  the  Author,  among  the  rest,  must  needs  make  a 
second  trial  of  this  curse  or  blessing  of  our  natural  lives. 
And  he  is  happy  to  inform  his  readers  that  he  has  no 
cause  for  regret  in  the  choice,  which,  under  Providence, 
he  has  been  induced  to  make. 

About  fifteen  months  of  widowhood,  having  rolled  over 
the  Author's  head — he,  having  quitted  the  employment  of 
the  son-in-law  of  his  Excellency,  the  Vice  President,  en 
tered  into  that  of  his  Honor,  the  late  Mayor,  Aaron  Clark. 
A  few  months  afterwards,  he  was  signing  Lottery  Tick 
ets  for  Messrs.  Yates  and  Mclntyre,  in  Broadway. 
His  next  remove  was  into  the  Register's  Office,  as  a  su 
pernumerary  copyist,  under  James  W.  Lent,  Esq.  Re 
gister  in  and  for  the  City  and  County  of  New- York,  &c. 
About  six  months  thereafter,  the  business  of  the  Office 


160  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

falling  off  considerably,  the  Author  with  several  other  su 
pernumeraries,  received  his  dismission.  His  next  place 
of  employment  was  in  the  Office  of  the  Court  of  Com 
mon  Pleas,  under  Nicholas  Dean,  Esq.,  at  that  time  Clerk 
of  said  Court.  Here  he  continued  eleven  months,  and 
then  went  into  the  Assistant  Register  of  Chancery's  Of 
fice,  as  a  Clerk  under  John  L.  Lawrence,  Esq.  In  this 
employ  he  remained  about  six  months. 

During  the  fourteen  years  that  had  elapsed,  from  the 
return  of  the  Author  from  Albany,  he  had  invariably  re 
sided  in  the  City  of  New-York  ;  but  having  received  a 
temporary  appointment  as  Clerk  of  the  Public  Store  at 
Brooklyn,  he  removed  thither  in  the  month  of  June, 
1829,  and  there  continued  until  the  expiration  of  the 
Quarantine  on  shipping,  in  the  month  of  November,  in  that 
year. 

Removing  to  New- York,  the  Author,  feeling  a  dispo 
sition  for  travelling,  made  a  visit  to  his  son-in-law,  then  re 
siding  at  Mayville,  in  Chatauque  County,  near  the  Cha- 
tauque  Lake,  about  sixty  miles  above  Buffalo.  In  the 
Spring  of  1830,  he  returned  to  New-York,  and  went  in 
to  the  office  of  Elijah  T.  Pinckney,  Esq.,  in  Tryon-Row. 
and  continued  with  him  as  his  Clerk  for  about  two  years. 
The  Summer  of  the  year  1832,  the  year  of  the  Chol 
era,  found  the  Author  again  employed  in  the  Office  of  the 
Court  of  Common  Pleas.  Abraham  Asten,  Esq.  being 
the  then  Clerk  of  that  Court.  From  the  books  of  the  As 
sessors  of  the  different  Wards,  the  Author  made  out  the 
Ballots  for  the  Grand  and  Petty  Jurys  of  the  city  and  coun 
ty  of  New  York,  for  that  year,  and  returned  to  his  former 
employ  with  E.  T.  P.,  Esq.  But  he  having  in  the  mean 
time  taken  students  into  his  office,  advised  the  Author  to 
turn  Money  Collector,  which  business,  with  very  little 
variation,  he  has  pursued  until  the  present  time. 

Here  the  Author  dates  the  commencement  of  his  busi 
ness  acquaintance  with  James  R.  and  William  Whiting, 
Esqrs.,  by  whom  he  has  been  employed  (with  the  excep 
tion  of  five  months,  as  Clerk  of  the  Long  Island  Fire  In-  * 
surance  Co.,  and  Messenger  and  General  Clerk  in  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  16 

Brooklyn  Bank,  eleven  months,  and  part  of  last  winter 
as  out-door  Visiter  for  the  Commissioners  of  the  Alms 
House),  either  as  a  copyist,  collector,  or  out-door  Clerk, 
and  in  their  office  he  continues  to  remain,  i.  e.  up  to  the 
21st  of  December,  1840. 

And,  now,  in  conclusion,  the  Author  wishes  the  Read 
er  the  enjoyment  of  both  physical  and  moral  health;  and 
for  himself  he  assures  him,  that  though  poor  and  despis 
ed  in  this  life,  he  hopes,  ere  long,  if  faithful  to  the  grace 
given  him,  to  be  rich  and  honorable  in  the  life  to  come. 

He  would  endeavor  to  imitate  the  Apostle  Paul,  in  his 
resignation  to  the  will  of  Providence,  in  regard  to  his 
temporal  estate,  by  being  "therewith  content;"  and 
cheerfully  obey  the  direction  of  the  Poet,  who  advises, 

"  With  patient  mind  thy  course  of  duty  run, 
God  nothing  does,  nor  suffers  to  be  done, 
But  thou  wouldst  do  the  same,  if  thou  couldst  see 
The  end  of  all  events,  as  well  as  He." 


THE     SPECIMENS, 


Among  the  many  names  that  have  presented  themselves,  none  ap 
peared  to  me  to  be  more  appropriate  than  the  one  I  have  chosen  as  the 
title  of  my  little  volume  of  Poems. 

"  Specimens,"  are  defined  to  be  samples,  or  some  parts  of  a  com 
modity  given  as  a  pattern,  to  show  its  quality  or  condition." 

Now  the  "  parts"  are  the  Selections  I  have  made  from  my  own  Com 
positions,  on  various  subjects,  at  different  times ;  at  which  I  have  labored 
occasionally,  for  nearly  half  a  century.  Such  pieces  as  I  thought  it 
not  proper  to  offer  to  the  public,  I  have  committed  to  the  flames. 

What  was  their  comparative  merit  therefore,  cannot  now  be  determin 
ed. 

As  none  of  my  ancestors,  to  my  knowledge,  have  given  themselves 
the  trouble  to  favor  the  world  with  an  account  of  their  lives;  perhaps, 
it  was  specially  reserved  for  me  to  perform  this  office,  if  not  on  my  own 
account,  at  least  for  the  satisfaction  of  my  posterity.  • 

In  the  Notes,  I  have  thought  it  would  not  prove  so  satisfactory  to  con 
fine  myself  merely  to  critical  and  explanatory  remarks,  as  to  avail  my 
self  of  the  benefit  of  the  extracts  I  have  made  from  many  very  valuable 
books,  which  from  time  to  time  have  fallen  into  my  hands.  It  will  ea 
sily  be  perceived  that  my  intention  has  been  to  accompany  each  pieco 
or  poem  with  a  correspondent  note — and  this  labor  I  have  performed, 
except  in  a  few  instances,  when  I  supposed  it  might  not  be  necessarily 
required. 

Should  any  of  my  readers  consider  some  of  my  notes  too  lengthy,  1 
can  only  say  in  extenuation  of  such  an  oversight,  that  it  was  occasioned 
by  a  sincere  desire,  ratber  to  promote  their  interests  than  my  own  grati 
fication. 

With  this  view  of  the  subject  I  respectfully  solicit  for  the  notes,  as 
well  as  the  poems,  a  candid,  attentive,  and  patient  perusal ;  while  ou 
nay  part,  instead  of  anticipating  and  combating  objections  that  may 
never  be  urged  ;  I  will  proceed  to  prosecute  to  a  conclusion,  the  task  I 
have  assigned  myself;  as  a  part  of  my  original  plan,  in  framing  the  "  Spe 
cimens,"  and  notes  to  the  same. 

And,  first,  as  to  my  Frontispiece,  or  Title-page,  I  deem  it  is  sufficient 
ly  explanatory  of  itself— but  of  the  "  Quantum  meruit"  or  second  fore- 


164  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

front,  such  as  now  obtains  in  the  entries  of 'modern  buildings.  I  would 
observe  that  I  composed  it  in  compliance  with  the  suggestion  of  a  friend, 
to  accompany  the  proposals  which  I  presented  for  subscribers  at  the 
New-York  City  Library,  and  the  Brooklyn  Lyceum. 

But  as  I  received  not  a  solitary  subscriber  from  either  of  those  Institu 
tions,  I  have  by  way  of  literary  retaliation,  transferred  it  to  the  Speci 
mens,  there  to  be  its  own  interpreter,  and  to  rate  no  higher  than  itself 
it  rates — viz.  as  "  Quantum  meruit." 

With  regard  to  my  Proem  or  Preface,  I  would  merely  observe,  that  I 
made  it  in  verse,  in  the  hope  that  it  might  share  a  better  fate  than  many 
prefaces  that  appear  in  prose,  however  splendidly  or  imposingly  they 
may  have  been  written.  So  here  commences  the  Notes  on  the  several 
poems  and  pieces  contained  in  the  Specimens ;  and  the  first  that  claims 
attention  is: 

"Echo,  if  right  I  understand,"  SfC. — Page  19. 

For  a  dissertation  on  the  origin,  &c.  of  Poetry  the  Reader  is  request 
ed  to  consult  the  Lectures  of  the  Rev.  Hugh  Blair,  D.  D.  See  also, 
Note  on  Elegy,  page  64. 

"  Passions  are  those,"  Sfc. — Page  19. 

Among  Humanists  (persons  skilled  in  human  learning)  "  passions 
are  the  affections  of  the  mind,  as  Love,  Hatred,"  and  also,  strong  and 
predominant  appetites  and  aversions — Gross'  moral  philosophy. 

"  An  Apothegm,"  Sfc.— Page  20. 

"  A  short  pretty  and  instructive  sentence,  chiefly  of  a  grave  and  emi 
nent  person."  The  subjectis  here  mercantilly  considered,  and  shows  that 
the  debt  contracted  to  the  constitution  by  excess  or  intemperance  in 
youth,  must  be  paid  with  interest  by  suffering  in  after  age. 

Youth  are  hereby,  also,  instructed  not  to  despise  this  caution  of  Holy 
Writ,  "  using  this  world  as  not  abusing  it." 

"  Imagination  claims,"  8fc. — Page  20. 

I  cannot  now  distinctly  recollect  from  whence  I  received  the  idea  con 
tained  in  this  little  "jeux  d 'esprit ;"  but  I  think  it  was  from  a  Newspaper. 
"  Imagination  is  the  faculty  by  which  we,  as  it  were,  picture  corporeal 
substances  in  the  mind,  as  if  we  saw  them  actually  with  the  eyes ;  or  an 
application  of  the  mind  to  the  pliant  asma  or  iniiige,  or  some  corporeal 
thing  impressed  in  the  brain,  conceit,  fancy,  thought."  "  Fancy"  is  al 
so  defined  to  be  "  Imagination."  Perhaps  no  one  but  a  Poet  would  at 
tempt  any  discrimination  between  them  ;  as  the  Greek  word  phantasia, 
is  translated  into  Latin  by,  or  rather  is  the  same  word,  phantasia,  which 
in  English,  is  called  Fancy  or  Imagination. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  1G5 

1 "  While  Brutus'  bust,"  Sfc.— Page  20. 

"  Dum  Bruti  effigiem,"  &c.  The  translations  were  attempted  incon 
sequence  of  a  public  request  from  the  publishers  of  the  Youth's  Maga 
zine,  or  Evangelical  Miscellany,  No.  9,  for  September  1817.  The  his 
tory  is  simply  this  ;  Michael  Angelo,  the  celebrated  Sculptor,  while  ex 
ecuting  a  bust  of  Brutus,  the  friend  and  assassin  of  Julius  Csesar,  hap 
pening  to  think  of  his  crime,  refused  to  finish  it — it  however  found  its 
way  in  its  imperfect  state  into  the  Gallery  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tus 
cany,  where  the  above  inscription  was  placed  under  it  by  some  unknown 
hand. 

"  Though  addition  is  one  thing,"  Sfc. — Page  21. 

This  was  an  anecdote  related  by  my  Uncle — more  than  half  a  century 
ago  ;  and,  being  vividly  impressed  on  my  mind,  I  thought  I  would  pre 
serve  it  in  verse.  It  is  a  caution  against  the  indecent  practice  of  listen 
ing  to  conversation  evidently  intended  to  be  private  and  confidential. 

Know  when  your  ears  to  use,  and  when  your  eyes; 
This  rightly  doing  there  your  safety  lies. 

" '  Tis  long  experience  shmcs,"  Sfc. — Page  22. 

More  than  half  a  century  ago,  the  word  in  the  title  of  this  piece  was 
spelled  indifferently,  either  Dependence,  or  Dependance — and  signified 
a  staying,  resting,  or  relying  upon ;  as  also  a  relation  or  subjection. 

Though  this  piece  was  written  more  than  forty  years  since,  I  still  con 
sider  the  sentiment  contained  in  it  to  be  correct,  and  have  therefore  re 
tained  it  as  a  part  of  my  Specimens.  Certain  it  is,  that  "  variety  of  con 
ditions  renders  men  necessary  to  each  other." — Saurin. 

"  Out  on  the  world,"  Sfc.— Page  23. 

By  the  world  I  mean  the  people  of  the  world.  Mankind  are  naturally 
selfish ;  observation  and  experience  abundantly  verify  this  assertion, 
viz.  that  "  selfishness  is  the  idolatry  of  the  world;  and  that  self  is  the 
idol." 

"Tis  a  shoclcing  affair,1'  &c.— Page  23. 

"  I  have  lived,"  said  Dr.  E.  D.  Clark,  "  to  know  that  the  great  secret 
of  human  happiness  is  this — Never  suffer  your  energies  to  stagnate." 

"  Don't  set  the  tune,"  Sfc.— Page  23. 

According  to  the  old  adage,  "Prayer  brings  down  the  first,  and  praise 
the  second  blessing."  The  latter,  is  therefore,  too  important  a  part  of 
Divine  worship  to  be  committed  to  unskilful  persons.  The  time  or  air 
should  also  be  adapted  to  the  words.  Other  advice  might  be  given  on 
the  subject;  but  it  would  not  be  heeded,  so  long  as  the  singing  in  the 


166  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

Churches  is  conducted  on  the  present  supposed  improved  plan.  The 
Psalms  and  Hymns,  singing  Department,  requires  to  be  reformed  be 
fore  congregations  can  cordially  conform  to  the  Apostle's  direction,  "sing 
with  the  spirit,  and  the  understanding  also,"  for  who  can  sing  tunes  he 
does  not  understand  ? 

"  And  shall  tJte  Justice,"  Sfc.— Page  24. 

This  piece  was  written  in  1815,  when  I  was  Deputy  Clerk  of  the 
Court  of  Sessions.  Those  were  the  impressions  I  then  entertained  of 
criminal  law,  and  yet  a  certain  celebrated  Lawyer  assured  me  I  was  "  a 
hundred  years  behind  the  spirit  of  the  age,"  when  I  remonstrated  against 
the  laxity  that  obtained  in  a  certain  criminal  department,  over  which  I 
thought  he  might  have  exercised  a  more  salutary  control.  Who  then 
that  has  lived  half  a  century  in  this  fluctuating  world  of  New-York,  may 
not  ou  retrospection,  exclaim  with  Maro  of  old — Tempora  mutantur, 
&c.  "The  times  are  changed,"  &c. — Virgil. 

Twenty-five  years  ago,  bail  was  taken  only  for  cases  of  misdemeanor?. 

"  From  the  bleak  North,"  Sfc.—Page  24. 

The  birth-place  of  my  first  wife  was  Ballycastle  County,  Antrim — 
in  the  North,  or  Scottish  part  of  Ireland;  near  the  Giant's  Causeway. 
She  died  on  the  23d  day  of  November,  1823,  aetatis  49. 

"  Alice,  J  linger  here,"  Sfc. — Page  25. 

I  frequently  stop  at  the  spot  where  rest  the  mortal  remains  of  my  former 
companion,  and  the  mother  of  my  children,  and  anticipate  the  day  when 
I  shall  be  permitted  to  enjoy  her  society  in  another  and  a  better  state  of 
existence.  She  was  interred  in  the  M.  E.  burying-ground,  corner  of 
First-street  and  Second  Avenue. 

"  Though  some  by  faces,''  Sfc. — Page  25. 

This  little  piece  ranks  among  the  earliest  of  my  poetical  production?, 
and  is  perhaps,  forty-two  years  of  age.  I  have  not  attempted  to  alter  it 
since  its  production ;  and  I  think  I  had  it  published  in  a  weekly  paper, 
called  the  Museum,  under  the  signature  of"  Alphonso." 

"  If  from  one  vice,"  Sfc. — Page  26. 

I  cannot  recollect  from  whence  I  drew  the  idea  contained  in  thtse 
lines  ;  yet  few  as  they  are,  they  furnish  ample  matter  for  reflection,  and 
afford  sufficient  inducement  to  give  the  truth  they  evidently  intend  to  in 
culcate  a  fair  and  impartial  trial.  "  Conscience,"  says  the  Rev.  and  very 
learned  Mr.  Saurin,  "is,  if  I  may  venture  to  speak  so,  an  operation  of 
the  soul,  consisting  of  volition  and  intelligence."  Conscience  is  intelli 
gence,  judgment,  considering  an  object  as  just  or  unjust;  and  con 
science  is  volition  inclining  us  to  make  the  object  in  contemplation,  an 
object  of  our  love  or  hatred,  of  our  desires  or  fears," 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  167 

"Wanted  employment"  &?c. — Page  26. 
"  A  fig  for  Rome,  a  fig  for  Greece,  a  London  rocking  give  your  piece." 

I  once  presented  this  piece  to  the  proprietor  of  the  Mirror ;  but  he 
gave  me  to  understand  that  he  only  dealt  in  foreign  Poetical  productions 
—  and  so  I  never  offered  it  to  any  other  person  for  publication. 

"  Let  things  go,"  Sfc. — Page  27. 

I  do  not  remember,  precisely,  in  what  manner  I  obtained  this  motto  ; 
but  I  think  it  was  from  the  pannel,  or  side  of  a  coach.  The  sentiment 
or  resolution  it  contains,  is  certainly  correct. 

"  Oh,  happiness,"  Sfc.— Page  27. 

This  is  a  very  early  production,  but  whether  before  my  first  marriage, 
which  was  in  1800,  or  just  after  it,  I  cannot  remember.  It  is  an  easy 
affair  to  preserve  dates  ;  many  people,  however,  neglect  it,  and  I  have 
been  among  the  number. 

These  were  my  thoughts,  ("  cursory,"  I  have  styled  them,)  long  ago, 
on  the  subject  of  Wedlock— defined  by  the  Church  to  be  Conjugium 
a  Conjungendo,  i.  e.,  "  a  joining  together ;  because  a  lawful  woman  ia 
bound  with  her  husband,  as  it  were,  in  one  common  yoke." 

But  if  any  person  desire  to  be  instructed  in  the  duties  which  Hus 
bands  and  Wives  owe  to  each  other,  and  to  their  families,  let  them  con 
sult  the  best  of  books  the  Bible — see  Paul  to  the  Colossians,  chapter  iii, 
and  Peter's  first  Epistle,  chapter  iii. 

"  Do  you  know  neighbour  John,"  Sfc. — Page  28. 

My  old  and  much  esteemed  friend,  Charles  Oilman,  who  was  a  Butch 
er,  told  me  a  certain  man  asked  him  what  business  be  followed  for  a 
living?  and  he  answered  him  that  "  he  got  Ids  living  by  shedding  inno 
cent  blood."  He  was  a  valuable  member  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
connection  in  New- York,  and  I  believe,  is  still  living;  if  so,  he  is  a  very 
aged  man. 

"  '  Tis  not  a  thousand  miles,"  ffc. — Page  28. 

This  is  among  my  first  compositions. — The  narration,  I  believe  is  true. 
I  heard  it  as  it  dropped  from  the  lips  of  the  identical  Hero  of  the  piece, 
John  Beckley,  Esq.,  of  Virginia;  who  was  afterwards  Clerk  of  the 
House  of  Representatives  in  Congress.  He  narrated  it  at  the  dinner 
table  of  my  Uncle,  and  when  he  next  visited  New-York,  I  handed  him 
the  piece,  and  he  assured  me  it  was  correct.  It  shows  that  Divines  as 
well  as  other  people  may  sometimes  be  surprised  into  an  infraction  of  that 
requirement  in  Holy  Writ,  which  teaches  us  "  to  do  justly."  Our  min 
ister,  however,  is  highly  to  be  commended  for  the  magnanimous  manner 
in  which  he  repaid  his  Counsel  for  his  salutary  rebuke.  But  if  any  one 
is  disposed  to  be  captious  on  the  subject ;  let  him  be  admonished  by  the 
old  adage  :  "  Errare  est  huinanum,"  &c. 


168  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

It  is  a  fact,  believe  it  sir,  _ 

Humanity  is  prone  to  err. — Kel. 

''  Lest  some  should  think,"  Sfc. — Page  33. 

I  hare  not  time  to  say  much  on  this  attempt ;  let  it  go  for  what  It  is 
worth ;  until  the  real  name  of  Junius  is  satisfactorily  discovered. 

"  Sicift  does  tltc  blood,"  S(c.— Page  33. 

In  this  Sonnet,  or  small  Poem,  it  appears  to  have  been  my  design  to 
treat  the  subject  by  way  of  contrast ;  ralher  than  to  enter  into  an  elabor 
ate  argument,  to  establish  what  tho  experience  of  those  who  are  advan 
ced  in  years,  has  from  time  immemorial,  abundantly  proved  to  be  true. 
"Youth  is  tenJer  age — the  state  and  condition  of  young  people,  or  their 
persons  ;  also,  a  young  man,  a  lad,  a  youngster  is  an  airy  brisk  young 
man — a  raw  or  inexperienced  youth— a  novice."  And  such  subjects 
might  receive  much  valuable  instruction  for  the  government  of  their  con 
duct  in  future  life,  by  conversing  with,  and  listening  attentively  to  the 
conversation  "  of  men  sedate." 

But  it  would  seem  that  no  teacher  can  excel  experiencp. — The  old 
adage  is  "  esperie*tut  docet,"  "  experience  teaches."  Much,  however, 
may  be  effected  by  parents,  in  giving  the  minds  of  their  children  a  pro 
per  direction,  by  wholesome  precepts,  and  an  appropriate  example. 

One  way'o'er  all  the  rest  prevrilp, 
Example  moves  where  precept  fails.— Kel, 

And  that  great  Poet,  Mr.  Pope,  says: — 

"  All  youth,  at  first  set  right,  with  ease  go  on, 
And  each  new  task  is  with  new  pleasure  done ; 
But  if  neglected  till  thev  grow  in  years, 
And  each  fond  mother  her  dear  darling  spares. 
Errors  become  habitual,  and  you'll  find, 
'Tis  then  hard  labour  to  reform  the  mind.'' 

And  the  best  of  books  directs — "Train  up  a  child  in  the  wayheshould 
go,  and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it.'* — Solomon. 

••  If  you  your  readers'  minds,"  Sfc. — Page  33. 

This  is  the  direction  given  to  Authors  by  the  celebrated  Latin  Poet, 
and  eminent  critic  Quint  us  Horatius  Flaccus,  who  flourished  in  the  reign 
of  Augustus  Caesar.  How  well  it  has  been  attended  to  by  the  Author 
of  the  Specimens,  is  left  to  the  reader  to  determine. 

"  Was  founded"  [A.  JD.]  Sfc.— Page  34. 

I  can  assure  the  proprietors  of  this  truly  respectable,  and  I  think  I 
may  say,  highly  useful  establishment,  the  beginning  of  which  I  recol 
lect  for  more  than  half  a  century  "gone  by,"  that  these  lines  are  sincere- 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  169 

Ly  intended  to  express  my  satisfaction  at  its  increasing  celebrity  and 
prosperity.  The  "American  Museum,"  in  Broad-street,  near  Pearl, 
in  1790,  compared  to  the  American  Museum  in  1831,  in  Broad 
way,  oppusite  St.  Paul's  Church,  was  a  dwarf  compared  to  a  giant. 
"  Oreseat  eundo." 

"  There  is  a  rash,"  ftc.— Page  34. 

The  event  which  occasioned  this  irregular  production  transpired,  I 
think,  in  the  year  1818.  The  subject  of  the  reflections  contained  in  the 
piece,  a  young  man,  was  a  Clerk  in  the  sam»  Bank  with  the  Author. 
He  had  absented  himself  for  about  a  fortnight  from  his  post,  when  we 
were  surprised  by  receiving  an  invitation  to  attend  his  funeral.  He  had, 
as  it  is  phrased,  "  blown  out  his  brains"  with  a  pistol.  What  were  hie 
real  motives  for  the  commission  of  this  rash  and  fatal  act,  for  more  than 
one  was  conjectured — we  never  could  accurately  ascertain.  The  most 
plausible  information  that  could  be  obtained,  was,  that  the  young  lady 
whom  he  wished  to  make  his  wife,  had,  by  the  advice  of  her  Physician, 
declined  accepting  his  proposal, 'on  the  ground  of  her  being  consumptive. 
It  was  said  that  he  left  a  letter  en  the  bed,  on  which  he  perpetrated  his 
own  murder — doubtless,  assigning  the  reason  for  his  conduct ;  and  thai 
a  connexion  of  hers  by  marriage,  a  Doctor,  discovered  the  letter  where 
he  had  left  it  lying ;  and  that  he  having  perused  its  contents,  could 
never  be  induced  either  by  persuasion  or  threats  to  disclose  them,  even 
to  his  parents. 

He  was  one  of  those  unyielding  spirits,  who  having  once  formed  a 
resolution,  could  not  be  dissuaded  from  executing  it,  though  death  might 
be  the  inevitable  consequence.  His  name,  though  the  fact  at  the  time 
was  of  public  notoriety,  is,  out  of  respect  for  his  family,  suppressed. — 
The  piece  is  not  affectedly  irregular;  it  was  composed  in  the  street, 
while  going  to  and  returning  ft  om  the  Bank.  The  impression  made 
on  my  mind  by  the  fearful  exit  he  made  from  time  to  eternity,  induced 
reflections  which  I  felt  constrained  to  utter,  as  well  for  my  own  admoni 
tion,  as  for  that  of  his  sorrowing  relatives  and  friends — aad  for  all  to 
whom  this  account  of  his  death  might  come.  I  say  not  how  true  it  may 
be,  yet  there  is  an  old  saying  to  this'effect,  "  Q,uem  Deus  vult  perdere, 
prius  dementat."  The  sense  of  which  in  our  language,  may  possibly  b«, 

When  to  destruction  he  is  once  consigned, 
That  man  becomes  a  reprobate  of  mind! — KeL 

"  Canst  tell  the  reason"  Sfc. — Page  35. 

It  is  deleterious  to  both  soul  and  body,  to  stimulate  excessively, 
either  with  solids  or  fluids. — The  advice  is,  "  using  this  world  as  not 
abusing  it?" — He,  therefore,  who  disregards  it,  must  expect  to  experi 
ence  the  consequences  which  such  disregard  must  infallibly  produce. 


170  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

"  I  suppose  you  need  not,"  S(c. — Page  36. 

This  piece  was  the  first,  or  among  the  very  first  of  my  poetical  essays 
— as  the  old  adage  has  it,  "  Necessity  is  the  mother  of  invention,"  so 
being  directed  to  bring  in  a  composition  on  Saturday  morning,  I  hand 
ed  in  for  my  composition  this,  piece  headed,  "  What  you  please."  It 
was  examined  by  the  professors,  who  returned  it  with  corrections,  and 
I  was  required,  in  future,  to  present  them  a  composition  in  Prose. 
What  a  flattering  prospect  to  encourage  me  to  repeat  my  first  attempt 
at  Poetry  !  Was  it  not  sufficient  to  cause  me  to  distrust  my  poetical 
capability  in  limine,  and  to  exclaim  in  despair,  "  The  cruel  Muses  do 
disown  you,  and  Phoubus  says  he  ne'er  has  known  you  !"  or  indignantly 
retort — 

"  Humble  Prose 

Is  fit  for  those 

Who  to  precision  can't  confine, 

Their  ideas  to  a  single  line.1' — Kel. 

But  I  was  obliged  to  make,  as  it  is  said,  "a  virtue  of  necessity," — i. 
e.,  to  comply  or  quit  the  Institution,  "  nulla  lex  habet  iiecessitas,  "  ne 
cessity  has  no  law." 

"  Jl'hcn  lofty  themes  present  themselves." — Page  36. 

What  was  the  origin  of  Speculative  Masonry,  or  the  Society  of  Free 
and  accepted  Masons — I  cannot  tell.  It  is  observed  of  them  that  they 
are  a  "  very  ancient  society,  or  body  of  men,  considerable  both  for  num 
ber  and  character  over  all  Europe."  I  joined  myself  to  Trinity  Lodge, 
No.  10,  in  the  year  1791).  But  after  joining  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  in  John-street,  about  three  years  subsequently,  I  discontinued 
my  visits  to  the  Lodge,  believing  that  if  I  really  was  a  "  Free  Mason," 
I  was  just  as  free  to  go  as  I  was  to  stay — or  else  in  what  would  my  free 
dom  consist  ? 

My  present  thoughts  respecting  Masonry,  when  placed  hi  apposition 
with  Religion,  are  candidly  expressed  in  the  Reflection  "  annexed  to  the 
Ods,  headed  Reflection. 

Benevolence,  O  glorious  name  ! 

From  Heaven  to  Earth  direct  she  came, 

To  sav?  our  lost  an J  fallen  race  - 
Impartial  Maid— fam'd  Masonry! 
Accessible  to  each,  and  free 

As  is  Heaven  s  all  abounding  gracfi. 

But  should  Heaven's  grace  too  feeble  prove, 
Our  lost  and  fallen  race  to  move, 

Around  this  solid  ball ; 
Their  neighbors  as  themselves  to  love, 
Then  disappointed  from  above, 

On  thee,  O  Masonry  we'll  call. — Kel. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  171 

"  The  Mail-man  left,"  &c.— Page  37. 

My  Uncle  had  a  clerk  in  his  employ  by  the  name  of  Christian  Hoff 
man,  and  it  was  from  him  I  had  the  story  of  "  The  Headless  Spectre." 
I  think  he  said  he  had  it  from  General  Malcolm,  who  at  that  time  lived 
and  kept  his  store  of  Ship  Chandlery,  at  the  corner  of  Beekman  Slip 
and  Water-street — now  called  Fulton-street  and  Water-street,  and  oc 
cupied  as  a  Boarding  House,  by  Mr.  Jackson.  The  Mail-carrier,  it  ap 
pears,  was  a  Scotsman,  and  so  was  the  General.  The  former  waa  in  the 
habit  of  calling  occasionally  on  the  General,  and  putting  up  at  his  house 
for  the  night. — On  one  particular  night  he  called  as  usual,  to  "  spend 
the  night"  with  his  friend  and  countryman ;  but  the  General  having  com 
pany  that  night,  requested  him  to  procure  some  other  lodgings.  He, 
however,  previously  to  taking  his  leave,  related  his  adventure  on  the 
road  to  the  General,  who,  after  endeavouring  to  soothe  his  mind,  ad 
vised  him  to  go  to  bed  and  sleep  it  off. 

He  retired  to  a  Boarding  House  for  the  night,  and  in  the  morning, 
while  coming  down  the  stairs  his  foot  slipped,  he  fell  and  broke  his  neck. 

Though  I  never  saw  any  apparition  myself,  I  am  not  prepared  to  say 
that  it  could  not  be  the  case  with  others. 

Mortals  prepare,  a  judgment  day, 

Awaits  us  one  and  all ; 
Then  let  us  when  death  s  summons  comes, 

Be  ready  at  his  call. — Kel. 

"  Kind  sirs  I  greet  you,"  Sfc. — Page  41. 

I  find  on  referring  to  my  Journal  the  following  note — "  To  S.  Wood- 
worth  &  Co.,  No.  60  Vesey-street,  who  solicited  aid  in  said  Poem,  and 
requested  that  the  Poetry  should  be  chaste,  Albany,  14th  November, 
1813.  It  was  during  the  last  war  with  Great  Britain,  as  will  be  per 
ceived  by  the  date. 

I  was  at  that  time  Recording  Clerk  to  his  Excellency,  Governor  Dan 
iel  D.  Tompkins,  at  Albany,  and  observing  the  Advertisement  of  S.  W. 
&  Co.,  I  thought  I  would  contribute  something  towards  the  furtherance 
of  what  I  considered  not  only  a  novel,  but  a  very  laudable  undertaking. 
The  piece,  however,  waa  never  forwarded,  neither  do  I  recollect  that 
"  New-York,"  a  Poem,  was  ever  published.  I  read  this  piece  to  Mr.  W. 
and  he  said  he  would  have  put  it  into  his  piece,  if  he  had  succeeded  in 
publishing  his  "  New-York,"  a  Poem. 

"  IFhen  rogues  fall  out,"  Sfc. — Page  43. 

This  is  an  old,  and  doubtless  a  true  saying ;  for  few  rogues  can  with 
stand  the  inducement  of  a  pardon  held  out  to  them  on  condition  of  their 
making  a  sincere  confession,  and  a  true  disclosure  of  such  facts  as  are 
sought  for  by  the  Law.  Other  causes  may  also  operate  to  produce  a 
like  effect. 


172  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

*  ,  "  The  Law  forces,"  fc.— Page  43. 

This  is  from  Noyes'  Law  maxims.     A  lawyer  told  me  he  thought 
these  maxims  might  be  advantageously  versified. 

H  MaKgnant,  cruel,  fierce,"  8fc.— Page  43-. 

Discord  is  disagreement,  strife,  variance.  Derived  frem  dia,  asunder 
— and  cor,  the  heart. 

"  All  lesser  must,"  Sfc. — Page  43. 

This  distich  admonishes  people  to  examine  things  carefully,  that  they 
may  not  give  a  preference  wrongfully  to  any. 

"  IVhencecamt  the  custom"  Sfc. — Page  44. 

The  practice  new-a-days  is  to  direct  the  servant  to  ask  the  person  who 
knocks  at  the  door  to  give  his  name.  If  he  refuses  by  saying  the  Gent. 
or  Lady  of  the  house  does  not  know  his  name — the  servant,  though  he 
may  pretend  to  inquire — answers  of  course,  "  not  at  home."  He  is  sus 
pected  for  a  dun,  or  an  officer. 

"  Havn't  you  heard  foflis  say,"  Sfc. — Page  44. 

I  have  an  indistinct  recollection  of  this  anecdote,  yet  I  think  it  was  to 
this  effect.  While  a  certain  lawyer  was  pleading  before  the  court,  the 
Judge  observed  to  him  that  there  was  no  general  rule  without  an  excep 
tion — ihe  lawyer  replied  he  could  name  one.  The  Judge  requested 
him  to  do  so.  Why,  said  he,  the  gamma  (the  third  letter  of  the  Greek 
alphabet)  is  invariably  pronounced  hard. 

"  There  let  it  inperpetual,"  Sfc. — Page  45. 

I  think  I  have  somewhere  read  of  two  persons,  consummating  their 
reconciliation  by  turning  the  hollow  of  their  hands  joined  together  by 
their  fingers,  over  a  hole  in  the  ground,  and  holding  them  in  that  position 
until  the  hole  was  filled  up  with  earth. 

"  So  small  is  the  containing,"  Sfc. — Page  45. 

From  whence  I  gleaned  the  idea  contained  in  this  distich,  I  am  una 
ble  to  tell. 

"  Body,  icith  others,"  Sfc. — Page  45. 
See  1st  Corinthians,  44th  verse  of  15th  chapter.. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  173 

"  Our  life  is  a  vapour,"  Sfc. — Page  45. 

Faith — among  Divines — a  principal  Christian  virtue.  An  assent  of  the 
mind  to  all  things  delivered  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  as  the  testimony  of 
Almighty  God.  IB  Greek,  pistis,  a  persuasion. 

"  Assist  Melpomene,"  Sfc. — Page  46. 

This  friend  died,  I  think,  of  the  yellow,  fever  of  '98. — We  were  for 
many  previous  years  inseparable  companions.  We  went  to  church  to 
gether  on  the  Lord's  day,  and  on  week  evenings  to  French  school,  his 
time  in  the  day  being  devoted  to  the  du'.ies  of  the  Counting  House, 
while  mine  was  employed  in  prosecuting  my  studies,  both  at  home  and 
at  College.  This  piece  was  composed  shortly  after  his  decease,  per 
haps  45 years  since. m  I  have  styled  it  an  Elegy — i.  e.  a  mournful  poem ; 
a  funeral  song. 

My  classmate,  the  Rev.  John  Blair  Linn,  in  his  book  entitled  "  Mis 
cellaneous  Works,  prose  and  poetical,"  printed  by  Thomas  Greenleaf 
in  1795,  gives  a  long  dissertation,  (from  the  one  hundredth  to  the  one 
hundred  and  forty  seventh  page  inclusive)  on  Poetry,  which  he  calls  the 
language  "  cf  passion  and  fancy." — Of  Elegiac  poetry  he  observes — 
"  perhaps  there  is  no  species  of  poetry  of  which  the  mind  is  more  sus 
ceptible  than  Elegy.  There  is  none  perhaps  which  meets  with  a  more 
agreeable  reception  from  all  classes  of  men.  Its  objects  are  to  excite 
the  softer  passions,  to  represent  the  distress  of  virtue,  and  the  many 
misfortunes  to  which  human  nature  is  liable." 

"  Full  oft  he  cross'd,"&c. — Page  47. 

I  do  not  recollect  ever  having  seen  this  sea  Captain,  but  his  brother 
was  a  schoolmate  of  mine.  I  wrote  this  epitaph  for  the  Captain'* 
widow. 

"  We  all  must  to,'1  Sfc.— Page  47. 

I  wrote  this  epitaph  for  the  widow  of  an  old  acquaintance.  As  hu 
gave  no  evidence  of  his  having  received  the  pardon  of  his  sins,  previous 
ly  to  his  decease,  I  had  to  frame  the  epitaph  accordingly. 

"  Long  her  patient  spirit,"  Sfc. —  Page  47. 

My  book  of  Poems  does  not  furnish  me  with  the  means  of  ascertain 
ing  who  the  lady  was,  for  whom  I  composed  this  epitaph. 

Greedy  Death,"  frc.— Page  48. 

I  am  equally  at  a  loss  to  determine  the  person  I  had  in  view,  in  com* 
posing  this  epitaph. 


174  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

"  Thus  dearest,  we,"  Sfc. — Page  48. 
In  this  epitaph  I  was  meditating  on  the  decease  of  my  former  wife. 

"  Fortune  alike  tcith  other,"  fa.— Page  48. 

"  Industry  is  Fortune's  right  hand — Frugality  her  left'1 — I  thought  this 
was  a  quotation  from  the  "  Elegant  Extracts" — but  on  consulting  my 
book  of  extracts,  I  could  not  find  it  there. 

"  In  books  both  sacred,"  Ifc. — Page  49: 

This  Essay  was  written  for  some  young  men,  who  belonged  to  a  re 
ligious  society  in  Albany,  during  the  late  War  with  Great  Britain. 
What  use  was  made  of  it,  I  never  was  able  to  learn. 

"  Eacli  individual  freely,"  Sff. — Page  50. 

I  think  I  composed  this  piece  about  11  or  12  years  ago  ;  but  my  re 
collection  cannot  now  supply  me  with  the  necessary  particulars  which 
induced  the  composition.  In  order  to  ascertain  these  particulars,  I  call 
ed  on  my  old  friend  Mr.  Jacob  P.  Roome,  late  Superintendent  of  Re 
pairs,  now  residing  in  21st-street,  hut  his  memory  failed  him  as  well 
as  my  own.  He  merely  recollected  that  the  firemen  had  a  disturb 
ance  among  themselves  in  the  Bowery,  about  the  time  above  alluded  to 
— and  referred  me  to  another  source  for  information.  I  am  certain  that 
I  derived  the  facts  stated  in  the  piece  from  a  newspaper,  but  I  cannot 
now  tell  its  name.  The  numbers  refer  to  the  different  Aldermen  and 
their  Wards. 

"  Fanny  is  the  girl"  Sfc.--  Page  53. 

This  was  a  complimentary  sonnet  to  my  present  wife,  while  paying 
my  addresses  to  her,  more  than  forty  years  ago.  As  she  made  no  ob 
jections  to  my  inserting  the  piece  in  my  Specimens,  I  also  added 
"  My  Second  Courtship  of  my  present  tcife  " 

This  piece  isexplanato»y  of  the  leason  why  our  courtship  was  broken 
off — and  how  it  came  at  length  to  terminate  in  our  marriage.  It  is  a 
practical  comment  on  the  old  adage,  which  instructs  us  that  "  early  at 
tachments  are  the  strongest." 

"  Takes  tftis  method  to  show,"  Ifc. — Page  55. 

This  piece  is  not  an  original  composition  of  mine.  The  ideas  were 
supplied  from  an  Advertisement  that  appeared,  some  forty  odd  years 
ago,  in  a  paper  called  the  ''Morning  Chronicle,"  printed  in  Pine-street, 
New- York.  This  Advertisement  I  versified  to  please  a  friend  who  had 
an  interest  in  the  paper.  It  afterwards  appeared  in  a  book  of  selections 
published  by  a  man  who  styled  himself  the  "  Emperor  of  the  Barbers," 
and  who  I  was  informed  afterwards  cut  his  throat  in  the  City  of  Albany. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  175 

If  puffing  to  frizzeurs  belongs, 
Who'd  envy  them  their  puffing  songs? 
But  scout  all  lying  to  a  faction, 
And  "scorn  with  us,''  a  meaner  action. 

No  liar  can,  whate'er  his  trade, 

A  liar's  punishment  evade  ; 

The  which  he  11  find,  if  right  he  looks, 

Recorded  in  the  ''best  of  books." — KeL 

"  One  niglti  I  dreamed,"  fa.— Page  56» 

This  piece,  or  "New  Year's  address,"  was  composed  expressly  for 
the  news  carrier  of  the  "  Courier  and  Enquirer,"  and  contains  accord 
ing  to  direction,  given  in  that  paper,  exactly  two  hundred  lines.  It  was 
presented,  and  rejected.  Becoming  again  my  property,  I,  like  some 
other  Authors,  by  inserting  it  in  my  "  Specimens,"  appeal  from  the  judg 
ment  of  the  Editors  of  the  Courier  and  Enquirer  to  the  candour  of  the 
public.  Though  I  am  satisfied  of  the  correctness  of  the  old  adage,  "de 
gustibus  non  &c.,"  there  is  no  disputing  tastes,  yet  I  am  willit?g  to  abide 
my  appeal,  with  this  determination,  however,  never  to  write  another 
New  Year's  address  for  any  other  newspaper,  either  in  this  City,  or  in 
any  other  part  of  the  World.  I  wrote  one  for  a  religions  newspaper  in 
this  City,  and  though  it  was  rejected,  the  Carrier,  under  pretence  of  hav 
ing  mislaid  it,  never  had  the  manners  to  return  it  to  its  legitimate  owner, 
consequently  he  prevented  me  from  obliging  the  public  by  its  insertion 
in  the  Specimens. 

"  Say  what  is  fate,"  Sfc. — Page  62. 

It  is  but  recently  that  I  undertook  to  peruse  the  two  volumes  of  ser 
mons  by  the  Rev.  Timothy  Dwight,  late  President  of  Yale  College/pub- 
lished  at  New  Haven,  in  1828.  I  always  entertained  a  partiality  for  the 
Doctor.  I  had  not  only,  more  than  half  a  century  ago,  read  his  "  Con 
quest  of  Canaan,"  an  Epic  Poem,  of  most  admirable  structure,  and  ex 
quisite  finish — but  I  had  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  hearing  him  read  his 
men  sermons  in  the  Presbyterian  Church,  (Dr.  Rogers',)  in  Wall-street. 
My  partiality,  however,  was  rather  founded  on  the  persuasion  that  he 
was  a  good  man  ;  a  genuine  Minister  of  the  Gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  And  nothing,  in  the  course  of  my  after  life,  has  occurred  to  in* 
duce  me  to  aller  that  persuasion. 

His  definition  of  Fate  I  have  given  in  the  sentiment  extracted  from 
his  sermons,)  versified.  I  have  turned  lo  Schrevelins,  Ei/inpfm/;?,  he  has 
translated  fatum,  divinitus  dtcretus,  decretutn — Fate,  a  divine  decree, 
a  //tipo),  divido,  quasi  siium  cuique  divisum  est,  as  though  each  one  had 
hia  own  lot  or  division.  Ainsworth,  Fatum,  God's  providence  or  decree, 
— Fate,  the  order  and  series  of  causes,  the  course  of  nature,  destiny  or 
fortune,  as  they  call  it — calamity,  mischief  or  misfortune.  Death,  or  na 
tural  death — more  rarely  an  untimely  death,  sometimes  a  man's  fortune 
or  circumstances,  also  an  Oracle — idem  quod  effatum. 

Bailey  (Fatum,  Lat.)  That  which  must  of  necessity  come  to  pass — 
God's  secret  appointment,  a  perpetual  unchangeable  disposition  of  things 
following  one  upon  another.  Providence  or  Decree — also  Dea,th. 


176  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

Walker — Fate,  Destiny,  Event,  Predetermined  Death.  But  I  suppose 
I  might  have  saved  myself  this  trouble,  as  it  is  not  improbable  the  Doc 
tor  might  have  travelled  over  the  same  ground  in  the  three  first  instan 
ces,  before  I  was  born. 

"  The  serious  observer  discerns,"  tfc. — Page  62. 

While  at  Albany  in  1813  or  '14,  comfortably  situated  with  my  family 
around  me,  and  in  the  employment  of  my  old  friend  and  classmate  at 
Columbia  College,  his  Excellency,  the  Governor — I  one  day  observed 
in  his  paper  called  the  "  Portfolio,"  published  in  Philadelphia,  by  Old- 
scfwol,"  an  advertisement  offering  $50  for  the  best  written  Ode — i.  e., 
Sang— for  the  approaching  fourth  of  July :  and  I  thought  I  would  try  to 
write  one  too — not  for  Mr.  Oldschool,  exactly  ;  but  as  though  it  were 
for  him,  not  to  send  to  him,  but  to  keep  for  myself.  And  well  it  wasl  did 
so;  for  if.  I  was  rightly  informed,  after  selecting  from  the  number  of 
fered,  twelve  of  the  best  performances,  he  rejected  the  whole  of  them, 
for  what  reason  I  do  not  now  recollect.  Probably,  however,  after  cul 
ling  out  their  excellencies,  to  avoid  the  payment  of  the  tempting  premi 
um  offered  in  his  paper,  the  Fifty  Dollars. 

"  Noic  what  is  this,"  <fc. — Page  64. 

After  the  above  explanation — the  protocol,  a  word — which,  like  Presi 
dent  Jefferson's  "  occlusion  of  the  Port  of  New- Orleans,"  had  nearly  puz 
zled  our  whole  nation,  must  speak  for  itself. 

"  Near  eighteen  months,"  4>c. — Page  65. 

I  have  now  arrived  at  the  termination  of  what  I  perhaps  may  konsider 
my  moral  productions — next  follows  those  of  a  political  character.  Situ 
ated  as  I  was  during  the  last  war  with  England,  in  the  immediate  vicini 
ty  of  Head  Quarters,  at  Greenbush,  and  in  the  very  centre  of  political 
information,  at  Albany,  it  was  [next  to  impossible  to  refrain  from  giv 
ing  vent  to  those  indignant  feelings  I  experienced  at  the  time,  when  con 
templating  the  cause  which  produced,  what  I  considered,  a  just  and  ne 
cessary  war  on  the  part  of  my  countrymen ; — Impressment  of  our  Sea 
men  on  the  High  Seas  and  search  of  our  Vessels.  Remonstrance  des 
pised,  submission  to  outrage  required,  the  "  ultima  ratio  regum,"  held 
up  in  "  terrorem"  in  case  of  resistance.  No  marvel  that  the  point 
of  Republican  forbearance  should  be  passed.  But  the  agony  is  now 
passed  ;  blood  enough  has  been  shed;  much  time  has  flown  by  since  the 
events  alluded  to  have  transpired ;  the  outrage  has  ceased  to  be  repeat 
ed  ;  amicable  relations  exist,  and  may  continue  to  exist  for  years  to  come 
— from  the  District  of  Maine  to  the  "  tltima  Thule  Britannarum."  Would 
God  that  "  Christian  Nations"  might  cease  to  "learn war"  any  more, 
and  that  the  only  strife  among  them  might  be  "  who  should  love  the  Re 
deemer  most,  and  who  should  serve  him  beat." 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  177 

"  Hear  ye,  hear  all  tlte  world,"  Sfc. — Page  68. 

If  Great  Britain  claims  to  be  the  parent,  she  should,  as  a  Chistian  na 
tion,  remember  this  injunction  of  the  Apostle  Paul  to-  the  Gentiles; 
"  Parents  provoke  not  your  children  to  wrath,"  &c. 

"  Tremble  ye  tyrants,"  8fc. — Page    68. 

The  procession  of  the  bones  of  the  Revolutionary  Patriots,  for  inter 
ment  at  Brooklyn,  took  place  in,  I  think,  in  the  summer  or  fall  of  1808. 
I  could1  not  attend  it,  as  I  was  Clerk  of  the  Alms  House  at  that  time,  and 
either  the  Superintendent  or  I  was  obliged  to  remain  at  the  House  to 
attend  to  its  concerns.  The  bones  were  deposited  in  a  small  triangular 
piece  of  ground  in  Jackson-street,  near  the  Navy  Yard.  They  were 
conveyed  to  the  place  of  Sepulture  in  13  coffins,  attended  by  about 
15,000  persons.  The  Coffins  represented  the  13  States,  whose  names 
appear  in  front  of  the  building  erected  over  the  tomb.  Over  the  gate 
way  is  this  inscription,  "  Portal  to  the  Tomb  of  11,500  patriot  prisoners, 
who  died  in  Dungeons  and  Prison  Ships  about  the  City  of  New-York, 
during  the  war  of  our  Revolution. '' 

"  IIow  insulting"  Sfc. — Page  63. 

, 

The  three  first  verses  were  composed  at  Albany,  during  the  late  war 
with  Great  Britain,  the  last  was  added  a  long  time  afterwards. 

The  origin  of  the  term  "  Yankee"  is  too  well  understood  in  our  coun 
try,  to  need  explanation  here.  That  the  epithet,  as  applied  to  our  na 
tion  by  our  then  enemies,  the  British,  was  intended  to  be  reproachful, 
is  certain  ;  it  is  equally  certain  that  it  was  malicious,  designed  to  hold  ua 
up  to  the  gaze  of  the  civilized  world,  as  the  aborigines  of  this  country, 
— the  Indians — savages.  But  the  reproach  which  long  since  has  been 
wiped  away  in  blood,  ceases  at  present  to  give  any  more  offence  to  an 
American,  than  does  the  epithet  "  John  Bull"  to  an  Englishman,,  who 
kn»ws  for  a  certainty,  that  if,  during  the  Revolutionary  War,  "  Yankee 
Doodle  was  a  boy,"  he  is  a  man  now.  As  such,  therefore,  he  must  con 
tinue  to  regard  and  treat  him,  if  he  desires  to  preserve  and  perpetuate 
the  friendly  relations  which  BOW  exist  between  the  two  countries.  Ei 
ther  the  time  has  arrived,  or  is  rapidly  approaching,  when  the  aphorism 
"  no  real  friendship  can  subsist  between  unequals,"  will  no  longer  ap 
ply  to  England  and  America. 

"  There  lived  a  Clerk,"  Sfc.— Page  69. 

After  the  peace  in  Ibl5,  when  I  was  preparing  to  quit  the  employment 
of  his  Excellency,  Governor  Tompkins,  and  to  return  to  New-York  with 
tny  family,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  three  years,  I  addressed  ;i  comma- 
nication  to  him,  requesting  from  him  an  introduction  to  som«  friend  of 
his  at  New-York,  who  might  give  me  employment.  Said-  he,  "  there  is 
our  old  classmate  John  Ferguson,  the  Mayor,  would  he  not  employ  you  ? 
I  answered,  yes,  if  his  Excellency  would  write  him  a  letter  requesting 
him  to  do  so.  He  replied  he  would  be  ia  New-Yerk  the  next  week, 


178  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

nnd  speak  to  him  himself  on  the  subject.  He  did  come  to  New-York, 
but  did  not  speak  to  his  Honor,  the  Mayor,  on  the  subject;  perhaps  he 
forgot  it.  About  this  time  I  must  have  written  this  querelous  Poem. 
Shortly  afterwards,  he  came  to  New-York,  and  advised  me  to  go  into 
the  employ  of  one  of  his  aids  whom  lie  procured  to  be  appointed  Clerk 
of  the  Court  of  Sessions:  so  I  became  Deputy  Clerk  of  the  Sessions, 
in  which  situation  I  continued  for  about  eight  months. 

"  Porter  attend,''  Sfc.— Page  72. 

This  address  was  commenced  in  Albany,  but  not  concluded  until  re 
cently ;  which  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  thus  publicly  thanking  the  Gen 
eral  for  his  kindness  in  discharging  through  General  Macomb,  iny  old 
schoolmate,  while  Secretary  of  War,  my  eldest  son  from  the  Army. 

Mr.  Pope  advises  "  Keep  your  peace  nine  years  ;"  I  am  glad  I  follow 
ed  his  advice  in  this  particular.  Both  the  above-named  Generals  were 
particular  favorites  of  his  Excellency,  Governor  Tompkins. 

"  Oft  Iiave  I  strore,"  Sfc. — Page  73. 

It  was  on,  or  about  the  fifteenth  day  of  the  month  of  June,  1837,  that 
the  present  District  Attorney,  James  R.  Whiting,  asked  me  if  I  would 
have  any  objection  to  go  to  Brunswick  in  New  Jersey,  to  transact  some 
business  for  him  at  that  place.  I  informed  him  I  had  none,  nnd  that 
Brunswick,  thereby  meaning  Brunswick  Landing,  frequently  so  called — 
was  my  native  place. — "  Then,  said  he,  you  are  the  very  person  to  go 
there."  Accordingly,  I  crossed  the  Hudson  to  Jersey  City,  and  after  a 
travel  of  thirty-six  miles  of  olden  measurement,  I  arrived,  without  any 
accident,  at  the  City  of  New-Brunswick.  Being  unwilling  to  put  my 
relations  to  inconvenience  to  accontmodate  me  during  my  stay,  I  enga 
ged  my  board  at  a  Hotel  in  Albany -street:  and  as  a  considerable  part  of 
the  day  remained,  I  concluded  to  pay  a  visit  to  Raritan  Landing,  by  the 
way  of  the  Canal,  an  invention  not  even  contemplated  when  I  last  visit 
ed  my  native  place.  Many  a  time  I  had  walked  from  Brunswick  to  the 
Landing,  and  from  the  Landing  to  Brunswick,  as  well  on  the  North, 
as  on  the  South  side  of  the  river:  but  never  before  had  I  enjoyed  the 
pleasure  of  walking  in  its  water  on  dry  and  solid  ground.  Now  this 
pleasure  arose,  not  merely  from  the  simple  circumstance  of  my  walking 
on  the  tow-path  of  a  Canal,  for  that  operation  I  had  performed  more  than 
once  between  Albany  and  Utica ;  but  rather  from  contemplating  the  in 
novation  that  had  been  made  in  my  native  river.  The  day  was  cool  for 
the  season,  and  the  North  wind  blowing  down  the  stream  was  refresh 
ing,  while  I  examined  as  I  progressed  in  my  journey  the  well  known 
places  on  either  hand — the  delight  of  uiy  juvenile  days.  Thus  pleasantly 
employed,  I  arrived  at  length  at  the  bridge  which  crosses  the  Raritan  and 
brings  you  to  the  place  called  "  Raritan  Landing."  And  here  I  noticed 
the  first  alteration  that  had  been  made  since  my  last  visit  to  the  place. 
The  Mill  belonging  to  Mr.  Miles  Smith  had  been  removed  from  above 
and  now  stood  below  the  bridge.  Crossing  over,  I  saw  the  boys  near 
its  Southern  abutment,  "  ail  silent  angling  from  the  sandy  shore." 

But  what  an  alteration  was  discoverable  in  the  road  since  I  last  trav- 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  179 

elled  it,  to  where  my  Grandfather's  house  still  stood.  From  the  bridge 
to  his  house  formerly,  a  distance  of  about  three  quarters  of  the  meadow's 
width,  not  one  solitary  house,  to  my  recollection,  remained.  It  appear 
ed  to  me  as  if  all  had  been  swept  away  by  the  freshet  which  annually 
inundates  the  meadows  in  the  spring  at  the  breaking  up  of  the  river.  Ge 
ographically  described,  the  Village  of  Raritan  Landing  resembles  in  its 
figure  the  letter  T.  It  commences  at  the  River's  bridge,  and  crosses  the 
meadow  or  the  temporary  bed  of  the  river,  extending  to  where  it  is  in 
tersected  by  the  road  which  runs  along  the  foot  of  its  northern  bank,  ex 
tending  upwards  towards  Bound  Brook,  and  downwards  towards  the 
•bridge  you  cross  to  enter  the  city  of  New  Brunswick. 

Directly  on  the  hill  above  the  intersecting  road  stands  the  house  where 
I  was  born.  I  have  accounted  for  this  circumstance  in  the  history  of 
my  life,  viz.  I  have  assigned  the  reason  why  I  was  born  on  the  hill,  in  the 
bouse  owned  by  my  uncle,  Capt.  James  Richmond  of  New  Bruns 
wick,  rather  than  in  the  house  owned  by  my  father.  "  The  Land 
ing,"  on  the  meadow  is  now,  I  believe,  entirely  destitute  of  inhabitants, 
and  is  owned  by  Mr.  Isaac  Lawrence  of  New-York.  Hehas  ason-in-Iavv 
residing  in  the  large  stone  house  on  the  hill,  a  Mr.  Pool,  whose  father 
purchased  the  house  from  my  uncle  Richmond,  and  he  purchased  it  from 
the  late  Mr.  Nicholas  Low  of  New-York.  I  feel  no  disposition  here  to 
uxtol  the  village  of  "  Raritan  Landing,"  above  any  other  village  I  have 
visited,  either  in  the  state  of  New-York  or  elsewhere  ;  on  the  contrary  I 
am  sorry  to  think  on  its  present  desolate  and  forsaken  condition.  Never 
theless,  I  will  not  disown  it  on  this  account,  nor  will  I  even  assign  the 
reason  for  its  decline;  it  is  sufficient  lor  me  to  remember  that  it  is  my 
native  village.  In  making  this  acknowledgment  I  revive  many  more 
tender  recollections  than  it  is  my  intention  to  insert  in  this  place  as  Idesign 
rather  to  write  a  "  Note,"  or  commentary  on  certain  things  contained  in 
my  poem,  than  a  lengthy  history  of  the  Village  and  iu  ancient  inhabitants. 

"But  on  the  hill  we  claimed  one  little  space." 

I  think  this  little  space  comprises  half  an  acre  of  ground,  and  that  my 
brother  William  reserved  it  when  he  sold  the  farm  after  my  father's 
death,  as  our  family  burial  place,  but  I  know  not  whether  or  no  he  re 
served  the  right  of  approaching  it  through  the  field  in  which  it  lays. 
This  is  the  only  claim  I  have  on  the  soil  of  the  state  of  New-Jersey, 
sufficient  to  constitute  me,  if  not  in  Law  at  least  in  equity,  a  freeholder 
in  my  native  state.  But  as  I  never  intend  to  urge  such  a  claim,  I  feel  no 
apprehension  of  having  it  resisted. 

Here  are  deposited  the  mortal  remains  of  my  Grandfather  and  Grand 
mother,  Father  and  Mother,  I  think  of  my  sister  Phebe,  and  three  sisters 
and  two  brothers  whom  I  never  saw.  Where  my  aunts  Betsy  and  Mary 
were  interred  I  do  not  know,  nor  whether  I  shall  rest  heside  them  or  not, 
nor  does  it  cause  me  any  tiueasiness  where  my  friends  shall  think  proper 
to  deposite  my  clay  when  I  shall  have  done  with  "  time  and  time  things." 

Below  the  burying  ground  to  the  east  there  runsasmall  brook,  through 
what  I  consider  a  meadow  in  miniature.  The  only  curiosity  I  remem 
ber  in  this  meadow  is  one  large  apple  tree  which  bore  apples  on  one  side 
that  were  red,  and  on  the  other  white. — "  One  spreading  tree  with  ap 
ples  white  and  red," — but  I  am  not  naturalist  enough  to  account  satisfac- 


180  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

torily  for  this  phenomenon.  "  There  Mentha  rose,  &c."  Mint — Nepeta 
too,  &c.,  cat-nip  or  cat-mint.  "And  on  the  hill  the  pudding  grass,"  &c. 
Penny-royal. — I  do  not  recollect  any  flowers  growing  on  the  little  mea 
dow  or  on  the  banks  on  either  side. 

The  adjoining  farm,  a  very  large  and  valuable  one,  was  formerly  own 
ed  by  a  Doctor  Hood,  and  latterly  by  a  Mr.  Miles  Smith,  recently  de 
ceased  ;  and  I  believe  is  now  owited  by  his  children.  "  This  road  to 
walk  was  never  my  delight."  The  road  from  Smith's  to  Prohasco's 
mill  is,  I  think,  about  half  a  mile,  running  along  under  the  hill  on  the  left, 
having  the  meadows,  the  river,  and  its  south  bunk  on  the  left  To  a 
stranger  at  this  season  of  the  year,  the  surrounding  scenery  might  have 
appeared  pleasant  and  picturesque,  nay  even  grand  and  imposing,  but  I 
had  conceived  a  dislike  to  this  portion  oi' the  road  in  early  life,  and  the  im- 
presssion  of  its,  to  me,  former  gJoom  and  solitude  still  remained.  After 
crossing  the  brock  at  Prohasco's  mill,  and  coming  in  sight  of  Brunswick 
and  its  bridge,  I  regained  tny  former  serenity,  and  my  mind  was  carried 
back  to  the  time  when  the  bridge  was  destroyed  by  a  freshet  in  the  river, 
and  how  firmly  it  had  resisted  the  power  of  the  stream  ever  since  Abra 
ham  Russell,  a  builder, a  Methodist  from  New-York,  fixed  its  foundation 
in  the  rocks  beneath.  And  methoiight  it  will  be  so  with  us ;  "  if  we 
build  our  house  on  the  sand  it  will  fail,  but,  if  we  build  it  upon  the  rock 
of  ages,  it  shall  never  be  moved." 

"  The  morning  dawns,  I  rise,"  &c.  It  was  en  the  Lord's  day — I  re 
paired  to  the  former  place -of  worship,  expecting  once  more  to  be  seated 
in  the  bnilding  in  which  my  father  worshipped,  and  to  which  he  took  his 
sons,  "now  more  than  half  a  century  gone  by."  But  judge  of  my  sur 
prise,  when  I  found  not  the  modest  little  brick  building,  occupying,  per 
haps,  one  quarter  of  the  lot  on  which  it  stood.  Like'many  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Brunswick,  who  had  formerly  been  found  paying  their  vows  and  hon 
ors  there,  it  had  disappeared  ;  and  its  place  \vas  supplied  by  a  large  and 
costly  edifice,  capable,  I  presume,  of  containing  four  times  its  number  of 
hearers.  Costly  indeed,  I  discovered  this  new  Meeting-house  on  enter 
ing  its  doors,  to  be — all  its  interior  was  in  the  highest  style  of  modern 
elegance — even  the  very  backs  of  the  seats  were  cushioned — and  what 
was  there  so  very  strange  in  all  that?  Oh,  nothing.  I  suppose,  to  the  young 
and  aspiring  members  and  visitors  of  the  English  Presbyterian  Meeting 
in  the  City  of  New-Brunswick.  But  I  intend  to  make  no  ill-natured 
remarks  either  on  them  or  on  their  meeting-house.  Looking  about  for 
the  pew,  but  having  forgotten  the  number  of  my  cousin's  pew,  I  was 
politely  accommodated  with  a  seat  by  a  gentleman,  to  me  entirely  a 
stranger.  Truly,  if  my  Countrymen  of  New-Brunswick  should  have  be 
come  superlatively  Attic  in  their  public  edifices,  after  a  lapse  of  a  few  re 
volving  years;  it  was  delightsome  to  find,  and  still  more  so  is  it  to  re 
cord  it  to  their  honor,  that  they  are,  nevertheless,  sincerely  Lacedemo 
nian  in  their  deportment  to  strangers  visiting  their  religious  assemblies. 
The  sermon  in  the  morning  was  by  the  regularly  stationed  Minister, 
a  young  man,  who  was.  as  during  the  day,  I  was  informed,  from  Phila 
delphia.  In  the  afternoon,  by  another  young  man  from  Princeton. 

From  the  best  of  my  observation  and  belief  the  services  of  the  day  were 
thus  far  strictly  performed  according  to  the  direction  of  St.  Paul,  viz. 
"decently  and  in  order."  In  the  evening  I  attended  the  Methodist 
meeting,  having  been  informed  in  the  afternoon,  at  the  Church,  that 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  181 

there  would  be  no  preaching  until  evening.  I  was  informed  that  a 
great  revival  had  recently  commenced  among  the  people,  particularly 
among  the  Presbyterians.  This  was  truly  "  a  good  hearing"  that  the 
Lord  was  at  work,  "making  bare  his  arm,"  and  a  stir  among  "the  dry 
hrones"  in  Brunswick.  It  was  to  me  an  evidence  that  "the  Lord  had 
not  forgotten  to  be  gracious," — and  that  "  his  mercy  endureth  for  ever.rt 
The  next  morning,  having  arranged  my  business  with  Judge  Boeruni, 
I  went  on  board  the  Napoleon,  and  paid  my  passage  for  New-York. 
The  weather  was  remarkably  pleasant,  as  was  our  four  hour's  passage 
down  the  Raritan,  through  the  Kills,  and  over  the  Bay  to  the  place  of 
our  destination.  On  our  way  down  the  river,  the  "  crooked  stream," 
from  its  numerous  reefs  so  called,  we  came  at  length  to  the  "  implanted 
poles,"  showing  their  "  beacon  heads,"  indicating  the  oyster  beds,  which 
were  there  submersed;  the  particulars  respecting  which  are  detailed  in  the 
Poem,  only  with  the  exception  of  the  names  and  mode  of  cooking  the 
oysters,  which,  I  believe,  is  peculiar  to  Raritan  Landing.  The  oysters 
picked  off  the  beds  are  small  single  oysters  and  are  called  by,  the  landing- 
ers,  Raccoons,  for  what  reason  I  cannot  tell,  except  it  be,  that  as  the  Eng 
lish  population  of  New-Jersey,  hail  originally  from  some  part  of  New 
England,  the  term  has  emanated  from  thence ;  for  old  Bailey  in  his  Dic 
tionary,  says  "Raccoon,  a  creature  in  New  England,  like  a  badger,  with 
a  tail  like  a  fox."  If  the  learned  reader  perceives  any  analogy,  or  re 
semblance  between  an  oyster  and  a  "creature"  as  above  described,  I  con 
fess  it  is  more  than  I  can  ;  but  of  this  much  I  am  fully  persuaded,  that 

Call  an  oyster  what  you  will, 
Yet  it  is  an  oyster  still. — Kel. 

and  now  for  the  "ittos  modus  coquere,"  the  mode  or  manner  of  cooking 
them. 

Sometimes  boiling  water  is  poured  into  a  washing  tub,  and  as  many 
as  is  thought  sufficient— say  one  or  two  bushels  of  oysters,  are  put  into 
the  tub,  which  is  carefully  covered  over  with  two  or  more  folds  of  a  blan 
ket,  and  there  the  oysters  continue  until  cooked  by  the  steam  ;  the  fami 
ly  then  surrounding  the  tub,  commence  eating  the  oysters,  opening  them 
with  their  knives  at  the  hinge  end  of  the  oyster.  The  condiments  are 
simple — salt,  pepper,  and  vinegar,  and  some  home-made  mustard,  if  you 
please.  At  other  times  the  oysters  are  baked  in  the  oven,  after  the  bread 
is  taken  out.  And  so  much  for  the  epicures  of  Raritan  Landing.  This 
though  not  the  most  refined,  is  at  least  an  economical  mode  of  prepa 
ring  this  delicious  food. 

"Filled  with  Mosquitoes,"  &c.  These  insects  are  peculiarly  annoy 
ing  to  passengers  in  the  summer  season.  Salt  water  from  the  Bay,  or 
water  with  salt  mixed  with  it,  will  allay  the  poison  of  their  stings.  After 
passing  Mount  Arrarat  on  the  right,  we  came  to  Perth  Amboy  on  the 
left,  which  is  a  stopping  place  ;  opposite  is  the  tail  or  end  of  Staten  Is 
land.  South  Amboy  is  at  the  south  end  of  the  Raritan,  which  empties  it 
self  into  Princes'  Bay.  Along  the  Kills  are  many  handsome  country 
houses,  belonging  to  gentlemen  in  New-York,  whose  Bay  being  so  uni 
versally  known,  needs  no  description.  We  came  to  at  the  wharf,  foot 
of  Marketfield-street,  adjacent  to  Castle  Garden. 

On  a  review  of  the  premises,  I  cannot  say  that  I  would  be  willing  to 


182  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

quit  Brooklyn  for  Raritan  Landing,  though  it  be  my  native  village.  I 
enjoy  many  comforts,  which  I  should  be  deprived  of  at  Raritan  Lauding 
— yet  I  am  willing  to  think  of  it,  to  speak  of  it,  and  bear  in  fond  remem 
brance,  and  even  to  visit  it,  as  often  as  occasion  may  present.  But  I 
must  at  present,  at  least,  for  many  substantial  reasons,  give  Brooklyn  the 
preference. 

"  Friend,  if  thou  canst"  Sfc. — Page  79. 

During  the  last  war  it  was  customary  to  use  the  phrase  color  of  the 
day,  aa  it  now  is  to  speak  of  the  Lion  of  the  day. 

"  Why  dost  thou  mourn,"  #c.— Page  79. 

1  consider  my  political  pieces  as  here  ending,  and  my  religious  ones 
commencing. 

As  to  the  times  when,  and  particular  circumstances  under  which  the 
greatest  part  of  them  were  written,  I  can  only  say  that  I  found  them  scat 
tered  throughout  my  books,  or  on  pieces  of  paper  in  my  desk,  some  un 
finished,  and  some  requiring  revision  and  retouching  in  order  for  publi 
cation. 

"  Reprobates.  Those  whom  (as  some  believe)  God  has  predestined  to 
damnation ;  also,  very  wicked  or  lewd  persons." — Bailey. 

"  Lost  to  virtue,  lost  to  grace,  abandoned." — South. 

"  To  reprobate.  To  abandon  to  wickedness  and  eternal  destruction." 
— Hammond. 

"  Reprobation.  The  act  of  abandoning,  or  state  of  being  abandoned  to 
eternal  destruction." — Maine. 

Either  of  these  definitions,  one  might  suppose,  is  of  sufficiently  fearful 
import  to  deter  any  reasonable  person  from  the  deliberate  commission 
of  wickedness.  Yet  the  Scriptures  represent  men  in  their  natural  or  un 
converted  estate,  as  blind — "  blinded  by  the  god  of  this  world,"  and  so 
are  "  led  captive  by  him  at  his  will,"  as  says  the  sweet  singer  of  Eng 
land,  Dr.  Watts  : 

"And  Satan  binds  our  captive  souls 
Fast  in  his  slavish  chains." 

But  another  author  from  the  same  country  observes — "  Mankind  are 
not  left  to  Satan,  nor  to  their  own  lusts,  nor  to  live  without  God  in  the 
world.  A  way  is  cast  up,  a  means  is  provided.  Besides  the  natural  and 
traditional  conscionsness  of  mere  moral  good  and  evil  in  every  breast, 
God  hath  a  divine  witness  in  the  heart  of  each  individual,  which  will 
truly  manifest  right  and  wrong  in  the  consciences  of  those  who  faithfully 
attend  thereunto,  afford  light  and  power  to  set  them  free  from  the  mists 
of  prepossession  and  prejudice,  and  become  a  safe  conductor  and  an 
able  supporter  in  the  paths  of  religion  and  virtue." — /.  Phipps. 

Again,  he  asks :  "  What  instructor  can  we  have  equal  to  this 
most  intimate  witness  ?  a  monitor  so  near,  so  constant,  so  faithful,  so 
infallible?  This  is  the  great  gospel  privilege  of  every  man:  tke  ad 
vantage  of  having  it  preached  day  by  day  in  his  own  heart,  without  mo 
ney  and  without  price,  yet  with  certainty.  Is  it  reasonable  to  conclude, 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  183 

ihia  nice,  true,  and  awful  discerner,  should  be  less  than  divine?"  I  think 
therefore,  it  is  arriving  at  a  fair  and  safe  conclusion  to  pronounce,  that 
until  the  Holy  Spirit  ceases  to  strive  in  a  man,  he  cannot  be  a  reprobate. 
For  "  God  will  have  all  men  to  be  saved,  and  to  come  unto  the  knowl 
edge  of  the  truth;"  and  so  "the  grace  of  God  that  bringeth  salvation 
hath  appeared  unto  all  men,  teaching  us  (by  its  convictions)  that"  &c. 
See  Tit.  ii.  11,12. 

"  God  hf.th  not  left  his  creature  man,  j 

To  Satan's  tyrant  sway; 

Nor  here  without  himself  to  live, 

To  his  own  lusts  a  prey." — Kel. 

"  The  radiant  Sun,"  SfC.— Page  80. 

I  cannot  recollect  the  precise  time  when  I  composed  this  address — 
but  I  remember  handing  a  copy  of  it  to  my  class-leader,  Samuel  Wil 
liams,  who  has  since  "gone  the  way  of  all  the  earth."  I  think  he  said  it 
was  not  spoken,  and  that  another,  perhaps  a  more  appropriate  one,  had 
been  composed  for  the  occasion. 

There  are,  it  would  appear,  Rabbins  in  every  persuasion,  who  decide 
"ad  libitum,"  and  whose  dictum  is  final  and  conclusive.  "  And  in  this 
place  the  gospel  heard."  "  The  gospel,"  says  the  Rev.  Dr.  Dwight, 
"  is  the  rain  and  the  sunshine  of  Heaven  on  the  moral  world. 

"  Wovld  you,"  Sfc.— Page  83. 

If  any  one  should  be  troubled  with  kakoaithais  scribendi,*  or  itch  for 
writing  poetry,  let  him  improve  it  by  following  the  advice  contained  in 
this  distich. 

"  Distrust,  'tis  not  ingenuous,"  Sfc. — Page  83. 

As  though  the  Preacher  had  said,  that  is  a  spurious  piety,  which  is  pro 
ductive  of  no  real  benefit  to  society.  Piety  is  "Godliness,  Devotion, 
natural  affection,  love  to  one's  Country  or  parents," — so  Bailey.  Piety 
is  nothing  but  a  profound  esteem,  an  infinite  love  for  God — but  how 
could  we  esteem  him,  if  we  imagined  he  was  jealous  of  our  happiness, 
and  an  enemy  to  our  persons  ?— Claude  389,  vol.  2. 

"  Ye  listening  youths,"  SfC. — Page  83. 

I  wrote  this  piece  to  be  spoken  by  one  of  Mr.  A.  Picket's  scholars,  on 
the  occasion  of  the  death  of  one  of  his  companions.  I  do  not  remem 
ber  the  name  of  the  deceased,  nor  whether  or  not  it  was  spoken  in  the 
school. 

• 

*  Schrevelius,  in  his  Lexicon,  says  the  seventh  letter — apud  Graecoa 
— with  or  among  the  Greeks,  sounds  e — my  teacher  directed  it  to  be  render 
ed  in  English  by  ai,  Dipth. 


184  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

"  Body  and  Soul,"  frc.— Page  84. 

AH  who  believe  in  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures,  mustadmitthat  there 
will  be  a  resurrection  of  the  dead ;  equally  imperative  is  the  declaration 
of  the  Apostle  Paul  in  the  5th  chapter  and  10th  verse  of  his  se 
cond  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians ;  "  For  we  myst  all  appear  before  the 
judgment  seat  of  Christ,  &c.,  and  in  the  loth  chapter  and  52d  verse  ef 
the  first  Epistle  to  the  same  people — "  for  the  dead  shall  be  raised  incor 
ruptible,  and  we  shall  be  changed."  And  in  the  following  verse,  "  For 
this  corruptible  must  put  on  incorruption,  aucl  this  mortal  must  put  on 
immortality.  And  this  because  "  Death  being  swallowed  up  in  victory," 
that  his  saints  may  give  thanks  to  God,  "  who  gives  them  the  victory 
through  their  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  The  Doctrine  of  the  resurrection, 
of  the  dead,  was  unknown  to  the  Heathens — as  is  evident  from  the 
32d  verse  of  the  17th  chapter  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles — "  And  when 
they  (the  reamed  Athenians,)  heard  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead, 
some  mocked,  and  others  said,  we  will  hear  thee  again  of  this  matter." 
And  that  sect  among  the  Jews,  God's  ancient  people,  called  Saddncees. 
from  Sadock,  their  first  founder,  who  received  only  the  five  Books  of 
Moses,  denied  the  being  of  Angels  and  Spirits,  and  the  resurrection  ef 
the  body.  But  neither  their  unbelief,  nor  that  of  any  other  being  can 
invalidate  the  declaration  of  one,  greater  than  Saint  Paul,  who  assured 
the  Jews,  that  in  case  they  should  destroy  this  temple,"  thereby  mean 
ing  his  body,  in  three  days,  he  would  raise  it  up." 

I  cannot  exactly  account  either  for  the  time  of  beginning  or  finishing 
this  piece.  Sometimes  I  found  a  piece  just  commenced,  at  others  near 
ly  completed,  in  this  or  that  book  of  compositions,  of  which  I  have  sev 
eral,  and  then  I  was  obliged  to  give  them  the  finishing  touch  in  opder 
to  fit  them  for  an  introduction  into  my  book  of  Specimens. 

"  Say  that  it  is  when  you,"  &c. — Page  85. 

Faith  in  Divinity  and  Philosophy,  is  the  firm  belief  of  certain  truths 
upon  the  testimony  of  the  person  who  reveals  them. 

The  grounds  of  rational  faith  are : 

First — That  the  things  revealed  be  not  contrary  to,  though  they  may 
be  above  natural  reason. 

Second — That  the  revealer  be  well  acquainted  with  the  thing  he  re 
veals. 

Third — That  he  be  above  all  suspicion  of  deceiving  us. 

When  these  criteria  are  found,  no  reasonable  person  will  deny  his 
assent. 

Thus  we  may  as  well  deny  our  existence  as  the  truth  of  a  Revelation 
coming  from  God,  who  can  neither  deceive  Himself,  or  deceive  othecs 
by  proposing  things  to  be  believed  that  are  contradictory  to  the  faculties 
he  has  given  us. 

Whatever  propositiogs,  therefore,  are  beyond  reason,  but  not  contra 
ry  to  it,  are,  when  revealed,  the  proper  ma'tter  of  Faith,. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  185 

FAITH,    WORKS,   LOVE. 

By  faith  we  live  on  God, 
By  works  we  live  to  God, 
By  love  we  live  in  God. 

Faith,  says  the  celebrated  commentator  Burket,  is  the  gift  of  God  as 
well  as  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  one  is  as  necessary  as  the  other  for  salvation. 
For  as  the  only  way  to  Heaven  is  by  Christ,  so  the  only  true  way  to  Christ 
is  by  faith.  As  sin  has  put  a  vanity  in  the  creature,  so  unbelief  puts  a 
vanity  in  Christ  that  he  should  profit  us  nothing.  Wrestle  we,  therefore, 
with  God  in  prayer  for  a  believing  heart. 

The  celebrated  French  divine,  Mr.  Saurin,  in  his  sermon  on  Habak- 
kuk  ii.  4,  "  The  Just  shall  live  byhis  faith,"  speaks  of  a  "  living  faith, 
faith  as  a  principle  of  renovation ;  faith  which  receives  the  deci 
sions  of  Jesus  Christ,  embraces  his  promises,  and  enables  as  to  devote 
ourselves  to  his  service." 

"  If  in  this  life  ice,"  &c.— Page  85. 

This  piece  remained  for  many  years  in  an  unfinished  state,  on  the  last 
leaf  of  my  school  journal,  and  it  is  but  recently  that  I  have  fitted  it  np  in 
the  shape  in  which  it  now  appears  in  the  Specimens. 

The  title  of  the  piece,  the  expostulation,  and  the  exhortation  it  con 
tains,  so  sufficiently  explain  its  import,  as,  doubtless,  to  preclude  the  ne 
cessity  of  any  further  comment  oil  the  subject. 

"  See  where  the  houseless,"  8fc. — Page  86. 

I  was  an  eye-witness  to  this  fact,  many  years  ago — and  on  mention 
ing  it  to  an  acquaintance,  was  informed  that  it  did  not  proceed  from 
want  of  room  in  the  Cathedral,  but  from  the  circumstance  of  the  ina 
bility  of  the  out-door  worshippers,  on  the  steps  of  the  building,  to  pay 
for  pews.  It  is  a  consoling  reflection  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  carry 
with  us  into  the  other  world,  a  well  filled  purse  of  silver  and  gold,  those 
corruptible  things,  wherewith  to  purchase  a  seat  in  Heaven. 

"  This  sentence  let  each,"  frc.— Page  86. 

This  is  the  sentence  of  him  who  "  spake  as  never  man  spake,"  and 
from  this  decision  none  of  the  posterity  of  fallen  Adam,  will  ever  make 
a  succesful  appeal. 

"  Though  sprung  from  Afric's,"  tfc. — Page  86. 

It  is  related  of  a  certain  son  of  Africa,  that  while  near  his  end,  some 
white  people  present,  were  commiserating  his  case,  exclaiming,  "  Poor 
Pompey  !"  to  which  he  replied — "No— not  Poor  Pornpey,  King  Pom- 
pey."— No  Christian  will  mistake  his  meaning. 


186  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

"  Never  heed  the  worldling's  scoff,"  Sfc. — Pa  ge  66. 

This  piece  was  partially  composed  several  years  since,  and  was  not 
matured  until  recently.  Whether  the  sentiments  embodied  in  the  Poem, 
were  originated  by  considering  the  literal  meaning  of  tne  word  martyr 
— Greek,  Witness — English,  or  in  its  evangelical  sense,  viz.  "  One  who 
bears  witness  to  the  truth  of  the  Christian  Religion  at  the  expense  of 
his  life,"  or  that  verse  in  the  Revelations, — "  Be  thou  faithful  unto 
death,  and  I  will  give  thee  a  crown,"  or  the  Poem  entitled  Christ's 
Resurrection  and  Ascension,  I  cannot  now  precisely  determine.  But 
whether  either  one  or  all  of  them  contributed  to,  and  induced  the  for 
mation  of  the  "  Martyr's  Crown,"  I  certainly  so  admired  the  "Resurrec 
tion  and  Ascension,"  as  not  only  ta  write  it  in  my  common-place  book, 
but  to  compose  my  piece  in  the  same  metre. 

If  my  readers  should  esteem  it  as  highly  as  I  do,  f  trust  it  will  be  a 
sufficient  apology  for  inserting  it  in  my  Notes. 

"  CHRIST'S  RESURRECTION  AND  ASCENSION." 

"Angels  roll  the  rock  away, 
Death  yield  up  thy  mighty  prey  ;. 
See  he  rises  from  the  tomb, 
Glowing  with  immortal  bloom.. 

"Tis  the  Saivour— Angels,  raise 
Fame's  eternal  trump  of  praise  ; 
Let  the  earth's  remotest  bound' 
Hear  the  joy  inspiring  sound. 

|      Now  ye  saints  lift  up  your  eyes, 
Now  to  glory  see  him  riser 
In  long  triumph  to  the  sky, 
Up  to  waiting  worlds  on  high. 

Heaven  displays  her  portals  wide, 
Glorious  Hero  through  them  ride  ; 
King  of  glory  mount  thy  throne, 
Thy  great  Father's,  and  thine  own. 

Praise  him,  all  ye  heavenly  choirs,. 
Praise  and  sweep  your  golden  lyres  ; 
Shout  O  Earth  in  rapturous  song, 
Let  the  strains  be  sweet  and  strong. 

Every  note  with  wonder  swell, 
Sin  o'erthrown  and  captured  Hell ; 
Where  is  Hell's  once  dreaded  king-, 
Where,  O  Death  thy  dreaded  sting." 

"  I  seethe  tetter,  and  approve,"  &c. — Page  88. 

This  Distich  is  a  translation  I  made  not  long  since.  I  have  seen  the 
name  of  the  author,  but  in  what  book,  whether  in  Sanrin  or  some  ortier 
book,  I  cannot  remember.  My  old  classmate  nearly  half  a  century  past 
(whom  I  have  mentioned  before  in  these  notes)  calls  the  author  "  a 
Poet."  In  his  dissertation  styled  "The  young  Compositor,"  he  ob- 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  187 

•erves  "  But  after  all  I  have  said,  it  is  a  true  and  common  saying,  that 
what  is  taught  by  precept  is  not  shown  by  example  ;  for  where  our  in 
clination  points,  we  naturally  follow,  though  at  the  expense  of  error." 
And  with  much  propriety  might  I  have  applied  to  myself  the  words  of 
the  Poet : 

"  I  see  the  right  and  I  approve  it  too, 

Condemn  the  wrong,  and  yet  the  wrong  pursue." 

I  will  here  take  the  liberty  to  repeat  the  latin  quotation,  which  both  of 
us  hare  verbified  "  Video  mcliora  proboque,  deteriora  sequor."  My  ver 
sion  is  : 

"  I  see  tlie  better,  and  approve  them  too ; 
Yet,- notwithstanding,  I  worse  things  pursue." 

The  words  meliora  and  deteriora  are  adjectives,  in  the  plural  num 
ber,  and  must,  of  course,  agree  with  some  substantive  or  noun  under 
stood  ;  and  that  too,  in  the  neuter  gender.  The  word  therefore  to  be 
supplied,  I  have  presumed  to  be  "  negotium" — a  neuter  noun  of  the 
second  declension,  and  which,  among  its  nine  different  significations  in 
Aiusworth,  has  the  following — "  Any  affair,  matter,  or  thing."  The 
learned  reader  will  easily  perceive  the  coincidence  (accidental  not  de 
signed)  between  the  words  of  the  two  different  versions,  and  that  my 
classmate  has  given  a  liberal  and  I  a  literal  translation- 

And  here  I  would  remark  of  coincidences,  or  according  10  Bailey — 
"  coincidents," — that,  generally  many  may  happen  without  premedita 
tion  or  design,  and  therefore,  in  writings,  will  not  always  merit  the  ap 
pellation  of  plagiarism,  or  "  book  thieving."  And  also,  that  many  havu 
happened  of  which  the  most  erudite  critic  of  the  present  age,  is  and  ever 
will  remain,  while  in  this  world,  most  profoundly  ignorant. 

I  will  here  mention  one,  which,  if  not  for  proof  or  illustration,  I,  at 
least,  consider  as  a  literary  curiosity.  About  six  years  since,  while  co 
pying  for  a  certain  Lexicographer,  in  Brooklyn,  under  the  letter  Aleph, 
this  coincidence  was  suggested  to  my  mind.  The  names  of  the  three 
sons  of  Noah,  who,  with  him,  survived  the  flood,  and  re-peopled  the 
world,  were  Shem,  Ham,  and  Japheth,  the  initials  of  whose  three  names 
are  S.  H.  J.  As  these  were  Hebrew  words,  and  as  we  are  instructed 
that  the  Hebrew  language  is  written  and  read  from  the  right  hand  to 
the  left— these  initial  letters  will  stand  J.  H.  S.  Now  the  title  given  to 
our  blessed  Saviour,  by  the  Latins  was  "Jesus  Hominum  Salvator,  (Je 
sus  the  Saviour  of  mankind,)  the  initial  letters  of  which  three  words  are 
J.  If.  S.  This  I  consider  a  literary  coincidence,  and  I  neither  obtained 
it  from  conversation,  nor  from  books. 

"  The  mind  tcith  conscious,"  fa. — Page  88, 

This  was  the  motto  to  my  old  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy's  Book , 
entitled,  I  think,  Moral  Philosophy,  by  Joan  D.  Gross — P.  M.  P.,  Co 
lumbia  College,  &c. 

It  is  designed  to  show  that  true  contentment  is  not  the  offspring  of 
riches,  and  truly  they  are  but  a  miserable  substitute  for  conscious  recli- 


188  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

tude  of  mind.     Of  what  use  would  the  most  delicate  viands  be  without 
a  wholesome  appetite  t 

"  And  pray  what  is  the  use,"  Sfc. — Page  88. 

Or  rather  for  what  purpose  did  Providence  bestow  strong  natural 
powers  of  mind  on  a  man,  and  suffer  them  to  be  cultivated  by  a  liberal  ed 
ucation?  Why  most  assuredly  that  they  should  be  employed  for  the 
promotion  of  His  honor  and  glory,  and  for  the  benefit  of  mankind. 

That  learning  is  a  "  talent,"  of  no  inconsiderable  kind  is  certain — for 
it  renders  its  possessor,  in  the  right  and  proper  use  of  it,  capable  of  doing 
much  good — and  ia  the  abuse  of  it,  of  perpetrating  much  evil  in  the 
world.  And  learning  is  a  talent  for  the  "  occupation"  of  which  a  strict 
account  will  be  required  in  a  coming  d;iy. 

"  JTiat  he  had  been  he  prov'd,"  &c — Page  89. 

The  two  first  lines  of  this  six  lined  piece,  remained  alone  for  many 
years  in  my  Journal,  and  it  is  not  many  months  since  that  I  added  the 
remaining  four.  It  has  been  remarked  that  "  Republics  are  ungrateful," 
and  if  that  remark  can  with  justice  be  applied  to  our  Republic  in  any 
one  instance,  it  must  be  in  that  which  relates  to  the  revolutionary  sol 
diers  of  America. 

Should  any  one  ask  the  question  "  have  they  not  been  amply  remu 
nerated  for  their  revolutionary  services,  by  our  government  ?  why  pro 
pose  a  question  that  has  been  so  repeatedly  answered  ?  Is  it  not  a  suf 
ficient  answer  for  the  Revolutionary  soldier  should  he  agitate  the  sub 
ject  of  remuneration  for  past  services,  "  Dulce  et  deconum,  est  pro  pa- 
tria  mori?"  I  will  not  call  it  a  literal  translation,  to  say,  "  When  the 
danger  is  past  and  there  is  no  need  for  your  services,  then  die,  for  your 
country's  benefit."  Nor  this:  "  When  you  have  done  with  the  stool,  kick 
it  away."  "  Ingratitude,  says  Mr.  Buck,  in  his  Theological  Dictionary, 
"  is  the  vice  of  being  insensible  to  favors  received,  without  any  endeav 
ors  to  acknowledge  and  repay  them.  It  is  sometimes  applied  to  the 
act  of  returning  evil  for  good.  Ingratitude,  it  is  said,  is  no  passion,  for 
the  God  of  nature  has  appointed  no  motion  of  the  spirits  whereby  it 
might  be  eicited  ;  it  is  therefore  a  mere  vice  arising  from  pride,  stupidi 
ty,  or  narrowness  of  soul." 

"  Look  you  for  life's  suffering,"  S{c. — Page  89. 

This  world  is  not  a  proper  portion  for  a  being  who  is  destined  to  sur 
vive,  the  ruins  of  this  "mundane  sphere."  "  The  things  of  this  world 
perish  in  the  using."  "  Riches  take  to  themselves  wings  and  fly  away, 
like  an  eagle  towards  Heaven."  "  Eating,  drinking,  and  sleeping,"  says 
a  certain  celebrated  divine,  "  are  mean  employments  for  an  immortal 
mind." 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  189 

"  Our  feeble  frames,"  &c.— Page  89. 

Physicians  compare  the  decays  of  nature  to  successive  shades.  The 
comparison,  whether  pleasing  or  not,  is  certainly  correct — Death  is  the 
last  shade. 

"  Sinners  repent,"  8fc. — Page  89. 

Repentance  is  defined  by  the  Rev.  William  Kinkadeto  be — or  to  use 
his  own  words,  "Repentance  implies  a  sorrow  for,  a  hatred  of,  and  a 
turning  from  sin,"  page  230.  Bible  doctrine,  "  You  are  lost  by  sin," 
&.c.  Mr.  Burket  says,  "  Death  came  into  the  world  by  Sin,  and  Sin  goes 
out  of  the  world  by  Death."— W.  B. 

"  God  tempts  his  saints,"  Sfc.— Page  90. 

Ainsworth  in  his  Dictionary  defines  the  word  "  Tentatio,"  by  eur  Eng 
lish  word  "  "proof;"  according  to  this  definition  it  would  read,  God  proves 
his  saints  in  various  ways,  &c.,  and  thus  understood,  the  word  is  clear 
from  all  ambiguity  or  mistake. 

"  When  of  his  sins,"  &c. — Page  90. 

"  A  penitent  draws  nigh  to  God,  as  a  criminal  approaches  his  judge. 

"  The  first  emotions  of  a  penitent's  conscience  are  usually  excited  by 
objects  of  fear,  thus  ;  Noah  being  moved  with  fear,  prepared  an  Ark  for 
safety — Heb.  ii.  7. 

"  Our  divines  distinguish  a  slavish  from  a  filial  fear ;  the  first  produ 
ces  a  legal,  the  last  an  evangelical  repentance;  and  it  is  allowed  that  th« 
conversion  of  a  sinner  often  begins  in  the  first,  though  it  cannot  be  com 
plete  without  the  last  condition ;  the  first  a  fear  of  punishment,  the  se 
cond  a  desire  to  please  God. 

Filial  fear  agrees  with  love.  One  of  the  finest  notions  that  can  be  for 
med  of  any  Christian  grace,  is  that  of  its  harmony  with  all  other  Chris 
tian  graces ;  no  general  rule  of  describing  a  virtue  will  tend  more  to 
wards  preserving  us  from  error  than  this.  Thus  hope  lightens  fear ; 
fear  is  ballast  to  hope.  Faith  keeps  repentance  from  running  into  des 
pair,  and  repentance  keeps  faith  from  rising  to  presumption. 

"  The  new  man,  or  that  set  of  graces  which  constitute  a  Christian,  is 
like  the  natural  body,  a  beautiful  composition  of  seemingly  opposite  ma 
terials,  formed  into  one  uniform  system,  each  part  essential  to  the  whole, 
and  the  whole  the  glory  of  each  part. 

"  Fear  sometimes  signifies  humility,  reverence,  worship,  moral  obe 
dience,"  &c. — Claude,  on  the  comp.  of  a  sermon,  page  3JIO,  A.  M. 

"  Itself  a  power ,"  &c.  Page  91. 

Soul  is  defined  to  be  a  Power,  susceptible  and  capable  of  representa 
tions.  The  different  modes  in  which  that  power  exerts  itself  are  called 
faculties."  Gross'  Moral  Philosophy. 

The  Rev.  Richard  Baxter  (of  whom  it  is  reported,  that  after  having 


/ 

190  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

written  thirty-three  polemical,  or  books  about  controversial  points,  came 
to  this  conclusion,  "  that  it  was  impossible  to  carry  a  madman  to  Heav 
en  in  chains")  has  the  following  on  this  subject.  "The  soul  of  man 
is  immortal,  and  if  good,  cannot  be  forever  in  a  bad  condition.  An  im 
mortal  spirit  is  a  distinct,  self-conscious,  invisible  being,  endowed  with 
natural  powers  of  never  ceasing  action,  understanding  and  will,  and 
which  is  neither  annihilated  or  destroyed  by  separation  of  parts.  Such 
is  the  soul  of  man." 

The  Rev.  James  Saurin,  in  his  sermon  on  Matt.  xvi.  26,  says  the 
"  term  soul,  which  is  used  in  this  passage,  is  one  of  the  most  equivocal 
words  in  Scripture ;  for  it  is  taken  indifferent,  and  even  in  contrary  sen 
ses,  so  that  sometimes  it  signifies  a  dead  body."  Lev.  xxi,  1. 

"  Soul  may  be  taken  for  life — as  in  Matt.  ii.  20.  Soul  may  be  taken 
for  that  spiritual  part  of  us  which  we  call  (kat  exochen)  the  soul  by  way 
of  excellence,  and  in  this  sense  it  is  used  by  our  Lord,  x.  28.  He  con 
cludes  to  understand  by  the  soul,  in  his  text,  the  spirit  of  man."  Again, 
he  asserts,  that  "  we  do  clearly  and  distinctly  know  three  properties  of 
the  soul,  that  it  is  capable  of  knowing,  willing  and  feeling — or  intelli 
gence,  volition  and  sensation,  or  more  properly,  the  acutest  sensibility." 

It  would  be  well  if  our  modern  divines  would  give  the  sermons  of 
this  eminent  minister  of  the  gospel  of  our  Lord,  Jesus  Christ,  an  atten 
tive  and  candid  perusal.  I  take  him  to  be  another  John  Fletcher.  These 
sermons  I  suppose  may  be  procured  from  the  Harpers,  who  recently 
published  them  in  two  volumes. 

"  Man,  sure  a  thinking,"  8fc. — Page  91. 

Man  is  defined  to  be  "  a  living  being,  endowed  with  an  organic 
body,  and  a  rational  soul,"  G.  M.  P.  His  soul  or  spirit  has  been  alrea 
dy  defined — as  to  his  body,  it  is  said  to  have  its  "  origin  by  conception,  its 
growth  by  nutrition,  and  its  termination  by  death."  "  I  think,"  says  a 
certain  philosopher,  "and  therefore,  I  know  that  I  exist.  Certainly,  every 
reasonable  man  knows  that  he  is  not  his  own  maker.  But  does  he  pro 
perly  appreciate  the  blessing  of  "  thought,  (or  thinking,)  which,  accord 
ing  to  Mr.  Buck,  is  sentiment,  reflection,  opinion,  design  ?  A  little  self 
examination  may  determine  the  question. 

"  How  vast  his  power,"  &c,'' — Page  91. 

"  Jehovah,  the  most  sacred  name  of  God,  denoting  him  who  is,  who 
was,  and  is  to  come."  Bailey. 

Mr.  Saurin  relates  an  anecdote  of  a  Roman  Consul's  requiring  a 
Jewish  Rabbi  to  explain  to  him  the  names  of  God.  The  Rabbi  gave  him 
to  understand  that  these  were  mysteries  altogether  divine,  and  which 
ought  to  be  concealed  from  the  generality  of  mankind.  He  condescend 
ed,  however,  to  inform  him,  that  strictly  speaking,  there  is  no  name 
given  to  God,  by  which  we  can  be  made  fully  to  comprehend  what  he 
is.  "  His  name  is  his  essence,  of  which  we  can  form  no  distinct  idea  ; 
for  could  we  fully  comprehend  the  essence  of  God,  we  should  be  like 
God.  "  These  words,"  he  adds,  "  are  full  of  meaning,  they  lay  down  a 
principle  of  momentary  use  to  us,  that  is,  we  must  be  infinite,  in  order 
fully  to  comprehend  an  infinite  Being." 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  191 

I  know  not  whence  I  derived  this  definition  of  God,  but  I  trust  I  never 
shall  forget  it.  "  He  is  the  great  and  unwasted  source  of  all  being  and 
of  all  blessedness."  Which  being  admitted,  I  cannot  imagine  how  we 
can  avoid  coming  to  the  conclusion,  that  all  other  beings  derive  their 
being  from,  and  owe  their  existence  and  their  happiness  to  this  great  first 
cause  of  "  all  being  and  of  all  blessedness."  The  Apostle  Paul  asserts, 
that  "  with  us  (Christians)  there  is  but  one  God,  the  Father,  of  whom 
are  all  things,  and  we  in  him  ;  and  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  ly  whom  are 
all  things,  and  we  by  him,  "  and  concerning  the  Holy  Ghost  or  Spirit 
he  queries  on  this  wise  :  "  What  man  knoweth  the  things  of  a  man, 
save  the  spirit  of  man  that  is  in  him  ?  and  then  unequivocally  and  posi 
tively  pronounces,  even  so,  the  things  of  God  knoweth  no  man  but  the 
Spirit  of  God.  Disputants  and  maintainers  of  a  certain  disputed  point 
in  theology,  viz.  the  OTTOO-TOO-I?,  or  subsistence,  &c.,  would  do  well  tho 
roughly  to  weigh  the  import  of  the  Apostle's  assertions,  before  they  pro 
nounce  any  one  unsound  in  the  faith  by  requiring  from  him  a  greater  de 
gree  of  faith  than  wasdemanded  of  the  Apostlesof  our  Lord  Jesus  Chirst. 
The  power  of  Jehovah — who  can  thunder  with  a  voice  like  his— who 
hath  an  arm  like  his or  who  can  stay  his  hand — or  who  dare  say  un 
to  him  by  way  of  represion  or  challenge,  what  doest  thou  ?  For  he  do- 
eth  his  pleasure  in  the  armies  of  Heaven,  and  among  the  inhabitants  of 
this  lower  world  ;  and  blessed  are  all  they  that  do  his  commands,  that 
they  may  have  a  right  to  the  tree  of  life.  See  the  Psalms  of  David  pas 
sim. 

« ^ 

"  The  grave's  a  place,"  &c. — Page  91 

"  Grave,  literally  a  hole  dug  in  the  eaith  to  bury  the  dead."  "  Heav 
en,  the  abode  of  heavenly  beings,"  &c. — "  Hell,  the  residence  of  Devils 
and  damned  spirits,  also  the  state  of  the  dead."  The  grave,  that  place 
in  which  "  there  is  no  knowledge,  no  work  nor  device." — Scripture. 

THE    FOET's   REFLECTION    ON    THIS   SUBJECT. 

"Pass  a  few  swiftly  fleeting  years, 

And  all  that  now  in  bodies  live 
Shall  quit,  like  me,  this  vale  of  tears, 

Their  righteous  sentence  to  receive. 

"  But  all,  before  they  hence  remove, 

May  mansions  for  themselves  prepare 
In  that  eternal  House  above, 

And,  O,  my  God,  shall  I  be  there  ?" 

Heaven,  that  blessed  place  where  nothing  that  is  impure  or  unholy 
shall  ever  enter,  that  place  where  "  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 
and  where  weary  souls  are  for  ever  at  rest,"  that  is,  from  persecution 
of  every  kind — "  Hell,  a  place  or  state  of  torment  in  another  state 
of  being."  Our  blessed  Saviour  says  of  Dices,  (the  rich  man,)  "  he  died 
and  was  buried,  and  in  Hell  he  lifted  up  hia  eyes  being  in  torment," 
Luke  16th. 


193  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

"  Would  you  escape,"  &c. — Page  93. 

As  the  Scriptures  of  truth  cannot  err,  they  certainly  must  be  in  error 
who  exclude  the  wrath  of  God  from  their  creed.  Take  this  one  assertion 
of  St.  Paul,  Romans  i.  18:  "  For  the  wrath  of  God  is  revealed  from  Hea 
ven,  against  all  ungodliness  and  unrighteousness  of  men  ;"  and  then,  if 
any  deny  the  wrath  of  God,  when  He  sees  fit  to  exercise  it,  they  do  it  at 
their  peril.  But  He  hath  eternal  life  in  reserve  for  all  those,  who  by  a 
patient  continuance  in  well-doing,  seek  for  glory,  honor,  immortality. 
"In  God's  own  book  these  truths  are  found." 

The  moral  philosopher  defines  truth  as  follows:  "Truth,  the  princi 
pal  object  of  the  duties  of  speech,  is,  in  its  nature,  harmony  and  consis 
tency,  which  are  coeternal  with  the  internal  possibility  of  the  essence  of 
things.  Its  effects  are  order,  beauty,  connexion,  and  mutual  depen 
dence  in  all  that  exists.  Its  tendency  is  moral  excellence ;  and  its  object 
the  compass  of  all  that  can  render  life  happy,  support  us  under  the  vi 
cissitudes  of  time  and  chance,  and  bear  up  the  soul  with  the  sure  hope 
of  immortality," — Gross'  M.  P. 

Our  blessed  Saviour  says,  "  I  am  the  truth." 

"  He  by  his  charities,"  &c.— Page  93. 

The  sentiment  is  first  from  Mr.  Saurin — and  is  perfectly  scriptural : 
"  Make  to  yourselves  friends  of  the  mammon  of  unrighteousness,"  &.C., 
q.  v.  This  man  acted  in  conformity  to  this  direction  of  our  Lord — he 
gave  to  the  poor;  and  the  Scripture  saith,  "he  that  giveth  to  the  poor 
lendeth  to  the  Lord,"  who  gives  him  to  understand,  that  he  will  repay 
him,  in  this  world,  a  hundred-fold— and  in  the  world  to  come  with  life 
everlasting.  But  "  he  that  despiseth  the  poor  reproacheth  his  Maker." 

By  charity  is  to  be  understood,  natural  affection,  love.  In  Divinity 
— the  love  of  God  and  one's  neighbour,  also  alms — Bailey. — Who  adds, 
"  The  uncharitable,  who  have  not  the  natural  affection  to  relieve  the  ne 
cessitous  poor  out  of  their  abundance,  intimate  thereby,  most  unchristian- 
\y,  that  self-love  is  the  measure  of  our  love  to  our  neighbour." 

"  Self  government  we  temperance,"  &c. — Page  93. 

This  is  a  recent  composition,  and  the  Rev.  T.  Dwight  has  supplied 
me  with  the  most  satisfactory  definition  of  the  term,  I  have  ever  met 
with  in  any  of  my  former  readings.  I  have  therefore  considered  myself 
warranted  in  assuming  the  extensive  proposition,  that  it  embraces  the 
whole  of  our  duty  as  a  law,  towards  God,  our  neighbours  and  ourselves. 
Temperance,  is  moderation,  soberness,  restraint  of  affections  or  pas- 
gjons — Bailey.  Mem.  I  think  when  there  is  no  law  against  a  thing,  it 
must  of  itself  be  a  law. 

"  We  in  the  doctrines,"  &c.— Page  94. 

The  sentiment  is  from  Dwight's  sermons.  The  doctrine  of  Jesus 
Christ  and  his  Apostles  in  its  whole  connection  is  called  in  Holy  Scrip 
ture,  "  the  Gospel — Moravians.  A  precept  is  a  command,  rule,  in 
struction,  lesson. — Bailey. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  195 

The  whole  doctrine  of  Jesus  and  his  Apostles  is  (Gospel;  and  is  thus 
called  in  the  Holy  Scripture.  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  comprises  all  the 
commandments  of  God,  in  the  love  of  God  and  our  neighbour. — Mar. 

"  See  ilie  blcss'd  Saviour,"  &c.— Page  94. 

The  second  line  in  this  distich  I  found  in  Mr.  Saurin.  Among  the  fifteen 
meanings  assigned  to  the  word  Virtue ;  in  Bailey,  he  does  not  name  the 
word  courage.  This  was  the  sense  in  which  the  Romans  considered 
the  word  Virtue,  and  so  we  understand  the  apostle  Peter  to  mean  when 
he  directs  "  add  to  your  faith  Virtue,  courage."  Ainsworth  has  the  word 
courage  among  others  under  Virtus  ;  so  let  it  be,  courage  or  valour. — 
Glory — Greek,  Doxa,  opinio — English,  opinion — Latin,  estimatio,  praise, 
opinion,  thought — say  then  it  means  "  to  be  thought  well  of,  to  be  held  in 
esteem."  But  I  cannot  think  of  deriving  it  from  the  word  glow,  which 
Bailey  says  means  to  grow  hot  or  red,  as  do  the  cheeks  and  ears. 

And  now  let  us  inquire  what  analogy  have  the  two  lines  to  each  oth 
er?  And  who  more  courageous  than  the  Saviour,  the  Captain  of  our 
salvation  ?  and  the  Church,  His  body  and  bride,  being  in  this  world  in  a 
militant  state,  are  soldiers  under  him.  The  poet  says, 

"Soldiers  of  Christ  arise, 
And  put  your  armour  on  ;"  &c. 

And  as  He  holds  these  soldiery  of  His  in  high  estimation,  while  they 
continue  to  fight  under  His  banner,  why  may  not  another  poet  be  allow 
ed  to  imagine  the  Saviour  as  sometimes,  at  least,  walking  by  the  side  of 
His  followers,  as  well  as  at  other  times  marching  at  their  head  ? 

"  Hurried,  surprised,  andwitli,"  Sfc. — Page  94. 

Let  me  supply  this  note  in  Mr.  Dwight's  own  words,  without  any 
comment  t»f  mine.  "  Death  'tis  a  melancholy  day  to  those  who  have  no 
God.''  But  to  all  those  who  thus  waste  their  probation,  and  abuse  the 
mercy  of  God,  the  time  of  Christ's  coming  will  be  dreadful..  Surpris 
ed,  hurried,  and  with  distress,  they  leave  the  world  injterror,  and  awake 
in  eternity,  utterly  unprepared  to  meet  their  Judge." — Vol.  2d, 
page  319. 

"Remember  this,"  Sfc. — Page  94. 

This  is  taken  from  the  same  author.  The  intelligent  reader  can  hard 
ly  fail  of  understanding  its  true  import.  At  all  events  he  will  discover 
that  it  is,  what  it  no  doubt  was  intended  to  be,  a  "  memento  mori,"  Re 
member  death ! 

" '  Twos  said  that  light,"  &c.— Page  95. 

Seethe  first  chapter  and  5th  verse  of  the  Gospel,  according  to  St. 
John. 
Mr.  Saurin  undertakes  to  account  for  the  fall  of  man,  (and  the  con- 

R 


194  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

sequent  introduction  of  sin  into  our  world,)  by  ascribing  it  to  an  exces 
sive  desire  of  knowing.  "  Further,  the  desire  of  knowing,  is  one  of  the 
most  natural  desires  of  man,  and  one  of  the  most  essential  to  his  happi 
ness.  Man  hath  a  natural  avidity  of  extending  his  sphere  of  knowledge. 
I  think  God  commanded  our  first  parents  te  restrain  this  desire,  because 
it  was  one  of  their  most  eager  wishes.  Accordingly,  the  most  danger 
ous  allurements  that  Satan  used  to  withdraw  them  from  their  obedience 
to  God,  was  this  of  science  ;  ye  sluill  be  as  gods  knowing  good  and  evil, 
Gen.  iii.  5.  The  state  of  innocence  was  a  very  happy  state,  however 
it  was  a  state  of  trial,  to  the  perfection  of  which  something  was  want 
ing.  In  every  dispensation,  God  so  ordered  it,  that  man  should  arrive 
at  the  chief  good  by  way  of  sacrifice,  and  by  the  sacrifice  of  that  which 
mankind  holds  most  dear,  and  this  was  the  reason  of  the  primitive  pro 
hibition,  Gen.  ii.  16,  17.  I  presume,  had  man  properly  borne  this  trial, 
he  would  have  been  rewarded  with  that  privilege,  the  usurpation  of 
which  was  so  fatal  to  him." — Sermon  on  real  liberty. 

Onealone,"  fyc.,  and  that  only  one  is  our  blessed  Saviour,  whose  "  blood 
cleanseth  from  all  sin."  Our  Saviour  appears  to  have  had  three  great 
purposes  in  descending  from  his  glory  and  dwelling  among  men.  The 
first,  to  teach  them  true  virtue,  both  by  his  example  and  precepts.  The 
second,  to  give  them  the  most  forcible  motives  to  the  practice  of  it  by 
bringing  life  and  immortality  to  light ;  by  showing  them  the  certainty  of 
a  resurrection  and  judgment,  and  the  absolute  necessity  of  obedience 
to  God's  laws.  The  third,  to  sacrifice  himself  for  us,  to  obtain  by  his 
death  the  remission  of  our  sins,  upon  our  repentance  and  reformation, 
and  the  power  of  bestowing  upon  his  sincere  followers,  the  inestima 
ble  gift  of  immortal  happiness. — Chapone. 

"  Did  icorth  departed"  Sfc. — Page  95. 

If  worth  be  considered  as  desert  or  merit,  we  may  doubtless  disclaim 
all  pretensions  to  any  on  our  part ;  but  that  there  is  such  an  attainment 
as  to  be  "  counted  worthy,"  is  evident  from  this  direction  of  our  Saviour 
to  His  disciples,  on  a  certain  occasion,  "  watch,  therefore,  and  pray  al 
ways,  that  ye  may  be  counted  worthy,  to  escape  &c.,  and  to  stand  before 
the  Son  of  man." 

"  Columbia  College,"  S?c. —  Page  95. 

And  now  I  have  arrived  at  that  part  of  my  Specimens  where  I  would 
delight  to  linger  and  indulge  in  the  contemplation  of  former  pleasant 
reminiscences.  But  I  am  circumscribed.  Spipituum  non  datnr. 

The  '  Catalogue  of  this  venerable  Institution  directs  ns  alumni,  at  least; 
"  Antiquam  exquirite  matrem — Virgil;  which  (if  taken  in  the  second 
eense  assigned  to  the  verb  exquiro),  I  would  translate,  "  Pray  for  (the 
prosperity  of)  old  mother,  Columbia  College." 

This  pamphlet  purports  to  be  a  "  Catalogue  of  Columbia  College,  in 
the  City  of  New- York  ;  embracing  the  names  of  the  Trustees,  Officers, 
and  graduates ;  together  with  a  list  of  all  Academical  Honors  confer 
red  by  the  Institution  from  A.  D.  1758,  to  A.  D.  1836. 

Then  follows  a  list  of  the  Trustees  of  King's  College,  New- York,  as 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  195 

appointed  by  Royal  Charter,  A.  D.  1T54,  at  the  head  of  whom,  sixteen 
in  number,  stands  ex  officio  the  most  Reverend  Father  in  God.  Thom 
as,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  :  and  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  foir 
the  time  being. 

The  first  president  under  the  Royal  Charter  was  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Johnson,  S.  T.  P.  (Sanctae  Theologiae  Professor)  Professor  of  Holy 
Theology,  appointed  1754,  resigned  1763,  and  author  of  "  an  English 
and  Hebrew  Grammar,"  to  which  is  added,  A  synopsis  of  all  the  parts  of 
Learning.  London  printed  by,  &c.,  1771.  The  first  president  under  the 
new  Charter  was  YVilliam  Samuel  Johnson,  L.  L.  D.  Legis  Legum 
Doctor,  translated  Doctor  of  the  learned  laws — appointed  1767,  resign 
ed  1800.  Under  this  president,  at  the  age  of  13  years  I  entered  the 
Freshman  class  at  Columbia  College,  but  in  consequence  of  my  uncle's 
removing  in  the  country  and  taking  me  with  him,  I  did  not  graduate 
until  the  year  1796.  So  that  I  was  a  student  in  two  classes,  in  the  form 
er  of  which  was  my  warm  and  constant  friend,  His  Excellency  Danie) 
D.  Tompkins,  Governor,  &c.,  and  afterwards  Vice  President  of  the 
U.  S.  At  the  head  of  the  latter  was  David  S.  Jones,  Esq.,  the  brother 
of  Samuel  Jones,  Esq.,  the  present  chief  Justice  of  the  Superior  Court 
in  thexiity  of  New-York. 

Our  Professors  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages  were  Peter  Wilson, 
A.  M.  for  the  first  year,  for  the  remainder  of  my  time  at  Columbia  Col 
lege,  the  Rev.  Elias,  I  think  Elijah  De  Rattoon,  Professor  of  geography 
and  moral  philosophy,  Rev.  John  Daniel  Gross,  S.  T.  D.,  afterwards, 
1795,  Rev.  John  McKnight,  S.T.  D.— M.  Phil,  and  Logic.  Professor  of 
mathematics  and  natural  philosophy,  John  Kemp,  L.  L.  D. — Yellette 
De  Marcellin  was  appointed  professor  of  the  French  language  in  1792, 
but  though  he  signed  my  Diploma,  I  did  not  study  with  him.  Messrs. 
McDonald,  Agnel,  and  Rey  De  la  Rousse  were  alternately  my  French 
teachers. 

The  statute  for  awarding  medals  to  students  for  good  standing  in  the 
different  classes  was  not  passed  by  the  Trustees  until  the  year  Ib31. 
The  Catalogue  was  presented  to  me,  some  time  since,  by  General  Ed 
ward  VV.  Laight,  President  of  the  Eagle  Fire  Insurance  Co.,  Wall-street. 
He  graduated  in  1793. 

The  class  to  which  I  originally  belonged,  numbered  thirty-two  ;  only 
twenty-six  of  whom  I  perceive  by  the  Catalogue,  graduated.  The  non 
graduates  were  John  Troup,  Elbert  Herring,  George  Harrison,  the 
two  Smiths,  from,  I  think,  South  Carolina,  and  also  a  Mr.  Hooper,  from 
the  same  place,  and  myself.  From  the  best  of  my  recollection  one  half 
of  the  actual  graduates  have  departed  this  life.  The  only  two  survivors 
whom  I  meet  occasionally,  are  Sylvanus  Miller  and  Thomas  Pboanix, 
Esqs.,  the  former  at  one  time  Surrogate,  and  the  latter  District  Attorney, 
for  the  City  and  County  of  New-York. 

Among  those  who  departed  this  life,  were  John  Ferguson,  Esq.,  dur 
ing  the  last  war  Mayor  of  the  City  of  New-York,  and  for  many  years 
Naval  Officer  in  the  Customs.  The  Rev.  James  Inglis,  minister  of  the 
Gospel  at  Baltimore.  The  Rev.  Nicholas  Jones,  Chaplain  at  Govern 
or's  Island,  as  I  was  informed.  The  Rev.  John  Blair  Linn,  (the  best 
composuist  in  our  class ;  and  Author  of  "  Miscellaneous  Works,  prose  and 
poetical"  Sfc.,)  minister  at  Philadelphia.  William  Rose,  Esq.,  formerly 
Senator  in  thu  Legislature  of  our  State.  Daniel  D.  Tompkins,  Esq., 


196  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

for  three  terms  Governor  of  our  State.  Pierre  C.  Van  Wyck,  Esq., 
formerly  Recorder  of  our  City,  and  Effingham  Warnerr  sou  of  George 
Warner,  who  was  studying  for  the  Ministry,  aud  Robert  Ray  Remsen, 
brother  of  Henry  Remseu,  Esq.,  former  President  of  Manhattan  Bank. 
Of  the  class  to  which  I  was  afterwards  attached,  enly  fifteen  of  us  gradu- 
ted.  David  S.  Jones,  Esq.,  our  head — Andrew  S.  Garr,  Esq.,  (the  best 
mathematician  in  the  class,)  and  Doctor  William  Turk,  for  the  last 
thirty  years  a  surgeon  in  our  Navy,  I  know  to  be  still  living. — Doctor 
Philip  Fisher  has  gone  the  way  of  all  the  earth. 

All  these  classmates  of  mine  were  professional  men — and  I  might  have 
been  one  also  ;  Imt  when  my  Uncle,  whose  namesake  lam,  offered  me 
my  choice  of  the  professions,  I  told  him  I  had  rather  be  with  him  in  his 
Counting  House,  for  he  was  a  Merchant. 

«  0)i  Generals  ice  like,"  #c.— Page  99. 

On  this  subject  Mr.  Saurin  observes,  "  It  is  with  difficulty  we  digest 
those  addresses  fiom  the  Pulpit,  in  which  the  preacher  ventures  to  go 
into  certain  details,  without  which  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  acquire  self 
knowledge.  We  are  fond  of  dwelling  on  Generals.  Our  own  por 
trait  excites  disgust.  It  is  a  circumstance  well  worthy  being  remarked, 
that  what  we  admire  most  in  the  sermons  of  the  dead,  is  the  very  thing 
•which  gives  most  offence  in  the  sermons  of  the  living. 

"  We  are  not  disposed  to  bear  with  the  private  admonitions  of  a  friend, 
who  is  so  faithful  as  to  unveil  to  us  our  hearts." 

"  Let  in  my  name  and  stead,"  fyc. — Page  99. 

I  have  never  heard  how  the  young  lady  received  the  compliment  paid 
her  in  this  distich ;  aud  so  I  can  say  nothing  more  concerning  it  in  the 
shape  of  a  Nate. 

u  Mourn  not,  ye  friends,'1  Sfc. — Page  100. 

I  think  I  wrote  this  Epitaph  (by  request)  above  forty  years  ago — 
and  also,  that  he  was  interred  in  the  burying  ground,  corner  of  Houston 
and  Eldridge-streets  ;  I  saw  it  on  his  tomb-stone  afterwards. 

"  Our  Fatiier  who  dost,"  Sfc.— Page  100. 

Were  I  to  offer,  or  attempt  to  offer  an  apology  for  versifying  this  form, 
or  model  of  prayer,  prescribed  by  our  blessed  Saviour  to  his  Apostles, 
on  their  requesting  him  to  teach  them  how  to  pray,  I  think  I  should  not 
refer  it  to  a  desire  to  excel  others  who  have  made  the  like  attempt ;  but 
rather  to  a  strong  impression  made  on  my  mind,  not  to  pass  over  unno 
ticed  so  important  a  portion  of  Christian  duty,  nay,  as  one  observes, 
which  is  "  the  whole  of  man ;''  for  the  command  is,  "pray  always." 
But  ye,  when  ye  pray,  say  "  Our  Father,"  &c. 

Prayer  is  the  converse  of  the  soul  with  God  ;  the  breath  of  God  iu 
man  returning  to  its  original." — Homilia  pros  ton  theon.  Clem.  Alexaiv- 
drinus,  strcm.  7,  page  722,  Edit.  Colon,  amplified. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  197 

Mr.  Matthew  Henry  in  his  "  Method  for  Prayer,"  observes,  (in  his 
preface,)  "  Prayer  is  a  principal  branch  of  religious  worship,  which  we 
are  moved  to  by  the  very  light  of  nature,  and  obliged  by  some  of  its  fun 
damental  laws."  He  defines  it  from  the  Greek  Proseuche,  pros-ad-kai- 
Euche — a  vow  directed  to  the  Lord,  and  from  the  Latin  by  the  word 
(votum,)  a  vow — which  he  says  is  used  for  Prayer,  which  English  word, 
he  further  says,  is  too  strait,  properly  signifying  petition  or  request.  For 
my  part  I  am  contented  with  the  Latin  verb  Pracar — I  pray,  Pro. — be 
fore,  and  cor — the  heart,  i.  e.,  sending  forwaid  the  heart  to  God.  For 
it  is  as  necessary,  if  we  would  pray  aright,  to  pray  with  the  heart,  as  to 
believe  with  the  heart. 

But  if  priiyer  is  a  petition,  why  not  derive  it  from  Peto,  I  seek — and 
then  it  will  exactly  square  with  our  Saviour's  direction,  •'  seek,  and  ye 
shall  find." 

St.  Austin  says,  "  prayer  is  the  key  of  Heaven  ;  for  prayer  ascends, 
and  God's  mercy  descends ;  though  the  Earth  be  low,  and  Heaven  high, 
yet  God  hears  the  voice  of  man. " 

Mr.  Henry  divides  prayer  into  five  parts,  viz.  Adoration,  Confession, 
Petitions,  Thanksgiving,  and  Intercession. 

"  Our  blessed  Saviour,"  tj-c. — Page  100. 

I  have  styled  this  a  Scripture  acrostic,  Greek  Akrostikos, — akros  the 
top,  and  stikos  a  verse,  a  Poem,  or  certain  number  of  verses  ;  whose  in* 
itial  letters  make  up  some  person's  name,  title,  or  some  particular  motto. 
•- — Bailey. 

"  This  world  is  like,"  Sfc.— Page  101. 

I  had  it  for  a  considerable  while  in  contemplation  to  write  something 
that  might  tend  to  obviate  the  too  general  excuse  for  not  breaking  off 
from  the  practice  of  drinking  ardent  spirits.  This  excuse  is,  that  if  per 
sons  long  in  the  habit  of  indulging  in  the  use  of  distilled  liquors,  should 
suddenly  abstain  from  them,  it  would  speedily  cause  their  death. — I  am 
not  a  physician,  but  I  have  been  informed,  that  by  a  certain  process  pur- 
sued  for  nbout  the  space  of  three  months,  the  English  in  the  East  Indies 
effectually  cure  their  soldiers  of  drunkenness;  even  though  they  were 
laboring  under  delirium  tremens.  The  operation,  which  I  shall  not  here 
detail,  is  said  to  be  so  severe  and  disgraceful,  that  very  few  require  to 
undergo  it  a  second  time.  The  remedy,  however,  recommended  in  the 
Substitute,  is  mild,  pleasant,  and  safe,  and  may  be  administered  by  the 
person  to  himself;  and  no  one  can  object  to  it  on  the  ground  of  its  con 
taining  a  portion  of  the  very  article,  the  use  of  which  it  is  intended  to 
supersede,  any  more  than  he  can  object  to  the  use  of  spring  water,  be 
cause,  as  Doctor  Beddoes  remarks,  it  contains  a  certain  portion  of  ar 
senic.  Neither  the  high  nor  the  low,  the  religious  nor  the  irreligious, 
refuse  it  on  account  of  its  possessing  this  peculiar  property  ;  but  on  the 
contrary,  consider  it  as  not  only  pleasant  to  the  taste,  but  nutritious  and 
in  many  instances  medicinal,  and  so  use  it  accordingly.  But  it  is  not 
on  this  substitute,  I  would  solely  rely  for  efiecting  a  cure  of  this  body-, 
destroying,  soul-killing  practice.  I  would  also  have  the  patient  use  s»ft 
adjunct  substitute. 

»* 


198  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS, 

"  Add  one  tiling  more  and  I'll  maintain, 
You  surely  will  your  object  gain ; 
Pray  name  it,  since  success  'twill  bring ! 
Religion,  sir,  that  is  the  thing." 

But  perhaps  it  may  be  suggested,  that  the  latter  prescription  will  rare 
ly,  if  ever,  be  attended  to.  Well,  then,  let  us  try  conviction,  and  to  that 
let  us  add  persuasion  ;  and  if  these  fail  of  producing  their  intended  effect, 
then  the  Moral  Philosopher  who  asserted  that  "  conviction  and  persua 
sion  would  lead  the  vnll,"  is  wrong.  Resort  then  must  be  had  to  the 
grace  of  God,  which  is  also  a  teacher,  for  "  the  grace  of  God  which  bring- 
eth  salvation  unto  all  men,  hath  appeared,  teaching  us,  that  denying  un 
godliness  and  worldly  lusts,  we  should  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  god 
ly  in  this  present  world,"  Titus  ii.  11,  12.  And  here  observe,  the  Scrip 
ture  does  not  say  forces,  but  the  term  is,,  teaches  ;  for  as  one  observes. 
"  Grace  doth  correct,  but  not  destroy.  Grace  strengthens,  but  not  com 
pels.  Grace  makes  men  able  to  choose  good,  but  not  unable  to  refuse 
it.  For  if  it  were  not  so,  man  would  not  be  a  voluntary,  but  a  necessary 
Agent ;  and  when  we  take  from  man  the  qualities  peculiar  to  him  as  man, 
we  make  him  unfit  to  be  an  object  of  rewards  and  punishment." — E. 
Bird. 

According  to  the  apostle — "  What  shall  we  say  then  ?  i.  e.  what  infer 
ence  shall  we  draw  from  hence  ?"  The  Scripture  presents  us  with  a  rea 
dy  answer.  "  He  that  being  often  reproved,  hardeneth  his  heart  and  stif- 
feneth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  be  destroyed  and  that  without  remedy."  - 

The  Iter.  Mr.  Kinkadein  his  "Bible  Doctrine"  says,  "Intoxicating 
liquors  are  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  poisons :  they  destroy  the 
health,  derange  the  mind,  and  ruin  the  morals  of  the  wretches  who  drink 
them."  And  he  adds, — "  In  the  United  States  alone,  more  than  two 
thousand,  perhaps  ten  thousand  people  lose  their  lives  every  year  by 
drinking  ardent  spirits." 

To'murder  another  is  a  capital  crime  ;  of  how  much  sorer  punishment 
shall  that  man  be  counted  worthy  who  is  the  murderer  of  himself  ?  truly 
his  punishment  will  be  awful,  beyond  all  human  conception,  and  utterly 
indescribable  by  mortals.  "  No  murderer  hath  eternal  life  abiding  in 
him,  consequently  he  hath  eternal  Death  abiding  in  him. 

"  For  still  with  his  outrageous  sin, 
He  felt  a  spark  of  grace  within." 

"  Grace,"  observes  one,  "  is  the  favorable  impression  of  God  on  the  hu 
man  mind.  "  Grace,  says  another  is  the  Mercy  of  God  in  finding  out 
redemption  for  mankind,  also  a  disposition  of  mind,  or  power  to  yield 
obedience  to  the  commands  of  God." — Bayley.  Grace,  Gratia,  in  The 
ology,  any  gift  which  God  confers  on  men,  of  his  own  free  liberality, 
and  without  their  having  deserved  it  at  his  hand,  whether  such  gift  re 
gard  the  present,  or  a  future  life. 

Grace  is  usually  divided  into  natural,  supernatural,  habitual,  actual, 
efficacious,  &c. 

"  And  many  good  resolves  he  made, 
But  only  called  in  reason's  aid." 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  199 

How  natural  it  is,  as  we  say,  when  our'sins  are  set  in  array  against 
us,  to  begin  "  to  reason  with  flesh  and  blood." 

"  A  kind  of  second  nature  flows." 

"  A  confirmed  habit,"  said  the  Rev.  Walter  Monteith,  "is  a  kind  of  se 
cond  nature." 

"  Sam  felt  this  kind  of  Logic  true." 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Kinkade  observes — "  Intemperance  fills  the  Prisons, 
crowds  the  Alms  Houses,  takes  thousands  to  the  gallows,  and  millions 
to  Hell." 

'Tis  granted — yet  the  Christian  knows  "that  man  is  naturally  high  mind 
ed,  for  when  the  Gospel  comes  in  power  to  him,  it  is  employed  in  cast 
ing  down  imagination,  and  every  high  thing  that  exalteth  itself  against 
the  knowledge  of  God.  Lowliness  is  not  a  plant  that  grows  in  the 
field  of  nature,  but  is  planted  by  the  finger  of  God  in  a  renewed 
heart,  and  learned  of  the  lowly  Jesus.  Vain  man  would  be  wise,  so  he 
accounts  himself,  and  so  he  would  be  accounted  of  by  others,  though 
man  be  born  like  the  wild  ass's  colt.  His  way  is  right,  because  it  is  hia 
own,  Prov.  xxi.  2.  His  state  is  good,  because  he  knows  no  better, 
Prov.  vii.  9.  Therefore  his  Hope  is  strong  and  his  confidence  firm. 
It  is  another  Babel  reared  up  against  Heaven,  and  shall  not  fall  while  the 
powers  of  darkness  can  hold  it  up.  The  word  of  God  batters  it,  yet  it 
stands.  One  while,  breaches  are  made  in  it,  but  they  are  quickly  repair 
ed  ;  at  another  time,  it  is  all  made  to  shake,  but  still  it  keeps  up,  till  eith 
er  God  himself  by  his  Spirit  cause  an  earthquake  within  the  man,  which 
tumbles  it  down  and  leaves  not  one  stone  upon  another,  or  Death  batter 
it  down  and  raze  the  foundation  of  it."  Boston's  Four-fold  State. 

"But  I'm  resolved,"  &c. 

Still  it  was  not  the  gracious  resolve  of  the  prodigal  son,  "I  will  arise 
and  go  to  my  father."  Nevertheless,  men's  prescriptions,  if  accompani 
ed  by  the  blessing  of  the  Lord,  may  accomplish  much  good,  and  are  not 
always  to  be  rejected  on  account  of  their  being  human. 

But  resolutions  made  in  our  own  strength,  will  never  procure  for  us 
eternal  life.  If  we  would  obtain  true  Christian  strength  we  must  seek 
it  of  the  Lord;  and  when  he  imparts  it,  then,  according  to  the  poet, 
we  shall  be  "  strong  in  the  strength  that  God  supplies,  through  His 
eternal  Son."  St.  Paul  says,  "  Christ  strengthening  me  I  can  do  all 
things." 

"  Confessed  by  all,  here  was  a  change." 
A  change  from  nature  to  grace, 
"  And  was  it  thorough,"  &c. 

Thorough,  by  itself  meansthrough;  illustrated  thus:  Thorough  Bass, 
in  music,  that  which  goes  quite  through  the  compositon.  I  mean  simply 
incomplete  in  all  its  different  stages. 

"  And  soon  into  a  flame  it  grew." 


200  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

The  poet  prays, 

"  Come,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove, 

With  all  Thy  quick'ning  powers, 
Kindle  a.  flame  of  sacred  love, 

In  these  cold  hearts  of  ours." 

Conviction  came,  it's  powerful  sway- 
Con — together,  and  tinco — I  overcome. 

"  In  Divinity  is  the  first  degree  of  repentance,  i.  e.  when  a  penitent  is 
convinced  of  the  evil  nature  of  sin,  and  his  own  guiltiness."  Certainly 
this  is  enough  to  cause  a  person  to  pray. 

"  He  just  is  made,"  &c. 

Justus— just,  &ndfacfwt — made,  or  fio-is-it,  he  becomes. 

"  Justification,  in  theology,  that  act  of  grace  which  renders  a  man  just 
in  the  sight  of  God,  and  admissible  to  eternal  happiness." 

"  He  doubted  not,"  &c. 

And  why  should  any  one  doubt  when  that  "nice,  true,  and  awful  dis- 
cerner,"  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God,  witnesses  with  his  spirit,  that  he  is 
born  of  God  ?  as  saith  the  poet, 

"  The  Spirit  answers  to  the  blood,      -  • 
And  tells  me  1  am  born  of  God.'' 

The  Spirit  of  God  is  not  uncertain  or  doubtful ;  it  is  a  certain,  it  is  a 
true  witness,  and  "manifested  in  every  breast." 

"  He  just  is  made,"  &c.,  see  page  108. 

"  Therefore  being  justified  by  Faith,  we  have  peace  with  God  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, — Romans  v.  1.  That  God  is  just,  can  be 
no  reason  why  he  should  not  forgive  sin.  When  God  changes  a 
sinner  and  writes  his  Law  on  his  heart.and  makes  him  love  God 
with  all  his  heart,  and  his  neighbour  as  himself;  every  attribute  of 
the  Divine  Being  harmonizes  in  his  pardon  and  salvation.  Justice  is 
satisfied,  because  the  man  is  made  just,  and  renders  to  God  and  man 
the  service  that  Christianity  requires  of  him.  Mercy  is  satisfied,  because 
the  man  has  received  mercy  from  God,  has  the  principle  of  mercy 
planted  in  his  heart,  and  has  become  merciful  to  all  his  fellow  crea 
tures.  Truth,  that  was  trampled  on  by  the  Sinner,  is  pleased  with 
his  conversion,  because  by  it  the  man  is  cleansed  from  Sin,  and  made 
holy." — Kinkade. 

"  Neither  the  posssibility  nor  probability  of  man's  purification  and  sanc- 
tification  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  can  reasonably  be  doubted ;  for  first,  as 
physical  evil,  or  bodily  pain,  has  no  substantial  existence  of  its  own,  but 
is  purely  incidental  to  corporeal  nature  ;  so  moral  evil  is  to  the  soul  a 
disorder  which  it  has  improperly  lapsed  into.  It  is  no  part  of  God's 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  201 

creation,  nor  has  it  any  real  existence  by  itself;  but  is  the  fallen,  defec 
tive,  distempered  condition  of  beings,  once  created  without  intempera- 
ture  or  defect.  Evil,  therefore,  though  it  be  in  man,  is  no  constituent 
part  of  man,  but  an  imperfection  adventitious  to  his  nature,  which,  by 
an  all-powerful  principle,  he  may  be  recovered  from,  and  his  nature  re 
stored  to  a  state  of  fitness  for  union  with  his  Maker.  Secondly — Un 
created  Omnipotence,  is  certainly  more  able  to  cleanse  than  the  crea- 
turely,  corrupt  and  fallen  powers  of  darkness  are  to  defile  ;  and  infinite 
goodness  must  be  as  willing  and  ready  to  effect  the  first,  as  limited  envy 
the  last.  Did  not  the  Sovereign  Lord  intend  man  should  be  made  holy, 
He  would  not  require  it,  without  affording  him  the  assistance  requisite  to 
accomplish  it,  for  He  enjoins  no  impossibilities.  That  He  does  require 
it,  the  sacred  writings  sufficiently  witness — '  God,'  saith  an  Apostolic 
writer,  '  hath  not  called  us  to  uacleanness,  bat  unto  holiness,'  "  1  Thes. 
iv,  7. — Phipps. 

"  Nor  did  he  shout,"  &c.  276th  line. 

People  of  different  constitutions  are  differently  affected  by  a  similar 
cause.  A  certain  person  assured  me,  that  under  an  affecting  sermon, 
he  experienced  a  shivering  sensation,  as  though  cold  water  had  been 
poured  upon  him;  a  person  of  a  different  temperament  would  doubt 
less  have  shouted,  at  the  top  of  his  voice — Glory  !  I  heard  an  officer  in 
our  army,  during  the  last  war,  describe  the  different  effects  produced  on 
the  men  under  his  command  by  the  beating  of  the  drum  to  arms,  pre 
paratory  to  an  engagement  with  the  enemy — some  he  observed  looked 
pale,  while  the  eyes  of  others  seemed  starting  from  their  heads — and  yet 
we  look  for  a  more  certain  criterion  than  mere  momentary  sensations; 
the  Scripture  mark  whereby  to  judge  of  the  truth  of  men  and  things,  is 
"  by  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them." 

"  The  Son  had  proved  his  friend  in  need,"  281st  Hue. 

"  Come  unto  me,"  says  the  blessed  Saviour,  "all  ye  that  that  labor 
and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest ;" — and  again — "  If  the 
Son  shall  make  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed ;"  and  to  such  He 
says,  "  Henceforth  I  call  you  not  servants,"  &c.  Johnxv.  15. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Saurin  says,  "Liberty,  I  think,  may  be  considered  in 
five  different  points  of  view.  The  first  regards  the  understanding.  The 
second  respects  the  Will.  The  third  relates  to  the  Conscience.  The 
fourth  belongs  to  the  conduct,  and  the  fifth  to  the  condition." 

There  is,  he  further  observes,  something  truly  astonishing  in  that  com 
position,  which  we  call  man.  In  him  we  see  an  union  of  two  substan 
ces,  between  which  there  is  no  natural  relation,  at  least,  we  know  none, 
I  mean  the  union  of  a  spiritual  soul  with  a  material  body.  I  perceive, 
indeed,  a  natural  connection  between  the  divers  faculties  of  the  soul,  be 
tween  the  faculty  of  thinking,  and  that  of  loving.  I  perceive,  indeed,  a 
natural  connection  between  the  divers  properties  of  matter,  between 
extension  and  divisibility,  and  so  of  the  rest.  I  clearly  perceive,  that 
because  intelligence  thinks  it  must  love,  and  because  matter  is  extended, 
it  must  be  divisible,  and  so  on.  But  what  relation  can  there  subsist  be 
tween  a  little  particle  of  matter  and  an  immaterial  spirit,  to  render  it  of 


202  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

necessity,  that  every  thought  of  the  spirit  must  instantly  excite  some  mo 
tion  in  this  particle  of  matter?  And  how  is  it,  that  every  motion  of  this 
particle  of  matter  must  excite  some  idea,  or  some  sensation,  in  this  spirit  ? 
yet  this  strange  union  of  body  and  spirit  constitutes  man. 

God,  say  some,  having  brought  into  existence  a  creature  so  excellent 
as  an  immortal  soul,  lest  it  should  be  dazzled  with  its  own  excellence, 
united  it  to  dead  matter  incapable  of  ideas  and  designs. 

"And  now  we  say  with  pious  mind,"  line  283. 

There  are  many  reasons  why  a  convert  should  join  himself  to  some  body 
of  professing  Christains;  see  Malachi  iii.  16,  and  St.  Paul  directs,  "  for 
sake  not  the  assembling  of  yourselves  together,  as  the  manner  of  some  is." 
What  should  we  think  of  a  man,  who  professes  to  belong  to  the  Army, 
and  on  being  asked  to  what  company,  regiment,  or  brigade  ?  he  should 
answer — to  none. 

"  Now  all  the  wise  and  good  rejoice,"  line  287. 

If  there  is  joy  in  Heaven  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth,  why  should 
there  not  be  joy  among  the  saints  on  earth.? 

"  United  to  bis  elect  head,"  line  286. 

"  That  Christ  is  God's  elect,  appears  from  Isa.  xiii.  1,23;  Matt.  xii. 
18,  19,  20;  1st  Peter  ii.  6;  Psalms  89,  3d;  1st  Peter  2,  3;  Psalms  89. 
19 ;  1st  Cor.  xii.  27 ;  Ephs.  i.  22,  23 ;  Col.  i.  18 ;  Rom.  xii.  5. 

As  Christ  is  the  elect  head,  and  the  Church  His  elect  body,  we  may 
safely  conclude,  that  all  Christians  are  elect  members  of  this  body ;  and 
consequently,  there  must  be  a  great  difference  between  God's  chosen, 
or  elect  ones,  and  the  world,  see  John  xv.  19;  Lukexviii,  7;  Col.  iii.  12, 
13 — Kiukade. 

"  The  tale  is  true,"  &c.,  line  295. 

I  know  the  man  I  had  in  my  eye,  wheipl  wrote  the  Substitute.  He 
is  yet  in  the  land  of  the  living,  patiently  Availing  the  moment  when  his 
Lord  shall  call  him  hence  from  time  to  eternity.  And  here,  need  I  apol 
ogize  for  so  long  a  note  ?  if  so,  then  let  the  Substitute  be  that  apology. 
The  importance  of  the  subject,  in  my  estimation  has,  as  it  were,  drawn 
me  along  almost  insensibly,  to  the  consideration  of  several  Christian  vir 
tues,  which  I  could  not  think  of  passing  over  in  silence.  If  it  please  the 
Lord,  he  will  cause  the  effort  to  prosper. 

"  Oh !  that  remember  always,"  Sfc. — Page  109. 

The  second  line  of  this  distich,  is  purely  of  Scriptural  injunction,  and 
extends  even  to  the  discountenancing  of  those  pious  frauds  that  have  been 
practised  in  a  certain  Church  professing  itself  to  be  Christian.  I  do  not 
read  in  the  Scriptures  that  Christ  practised  any  frauds  to  establish  his 
claim  to  the  Messiahship,  nor  that  he  ever  instructed  any  of  his  follow 
ers  that  the  truth  stood  in  need  of  any  such  support. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

"  Let  prayers  ascend,"  Sfc. — Page  109. 
See  Note — on  our  Lord's  Prayer. 

"  That  tee,  need  we," — Page  109. 

Life — human  life,  is  not  only  of  short  duration,  but  of  very  uncertain 
continuance.  The  Poet  remarks, 

"Dangers  stand  thick  through  all  the  ground, 

To  push  us  to  the  tomb ; 
And  fierce  diseases  wait  around, 

To  hurry  mortals  home. —  Watts. 

According  to  our  excellent  Burial  service,  "  Man  that  is  born  of  a 
woman,  hath  but  a  short  time  to  live,  and  is  full  of  misery.  He  cometh 
up,  and  is  cut  down  like  a  flower ;  he  fleeth,  as  it  were  a  shadow,  and 
never  continueth  in  one  stay." 

"  Resigned  he  goes,"  Sfc. — Page  110. 

"  Death,  said  the  Rev.  John  McKnight,  our  old  Professor  of  Moral 
Philosophy  at  Columbia  College,  in  New-York,  is  a  violation  done  to 
Nature,  and,  therefore,  Nature  shudders  at  it." 

"  But  Death  must  be  a  penalty,  even  where  it  is  again;  and  therefore 
it  must  meet  with  some  unwillingness;  because  we  willingly  sinned,  we 
must  unwillingly  suffer.  All  the  faith  and  reason  in  the  world  will  not 
make  Death  to  be  no  penalty,  and  therefore  will  not  take  away  all  un 
willingness.  No  man  ever  reasoned  or  believed  himself  in  a  love  of 
pain  as  such.'' — Baxter. 

Death  terminates  all  the  relations  that  subsist  between  men  in  this  life. 
But  the  relation  of  dependence  which  subsists  between  the  Creator  and 
His  creatures,  is  an  eternal  relation.  That  world,  into  which  we  enter 
when  we  die,  is  a  part  of  His  empire,  and  is  as  subject  to  His  laws  as  that 
into  which  we  entered  when  we  were  born.  During  this  life  the  Su 
preme  Governor  hath  riches  and  poverty,  glory  and  ignominy,  cruel  ty- 
rants  and  clement  princes,  rains  and  droughts,  raging  tempests  and 
refreshing  breezes,  air  wholesome  and  air  infected,  famine  and  plenty, 
victories  and  defeats  to  render  us  happy  or  miserable.  After  death  he 
hath  absolution  and  condemnation  ;  a  tribunal  of  justice,  and  a  tribunal 
of  mercy,  Angels  and  Devils;  a  river  of  pleasure,  and  a  lake  burning 
with  fire  and  brimstone  ;  Hell  with  all  its  horrors,  and  Heaven  with  its 
happiness,  to  render  us  happy  or  miserable  as  he  pleaseth-  Death  is 
rendered  formidable  to  man  by  a  threefold  consideration,  and  three  con 
siderations  of  an  opposite  nature  strip  him  of  all  his  terrors  in  the  eye  of 
the  believer  in  Christ.  Death  is  formidable — first,  because  of  the  veil 
which  conceals  from  the  eyes  of  the  dying  person  that  state  which  he  is 
about  to  enter.  2d,  From  remorse  of  conscience  which  the  recollec 
tion  of  past  guilt  excites.  3d,  From  the  loss  of  titles,  honor,  and  all  oth 
er  earthly  possessions.  In  opposition  to  these  the  death  of  Christ,  1st, 
Removes  the  veil  which  conceals  futurity,  and  constitutes  an  authentic 


?04  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

proof  of  the  immortality  of  the  sonl.  2d,  It  is  a  sacrifice  presented  to 
Divine  Justice  for  the  remission  of  sins.  3d,  It  gives  us  complete  assu 
rance  of  a  blessed  eternity.  These  are  the  considerations  which  disarm 
Death  of  his  terror  to  the  dying  believer. 

Let  us  "  Recollect  that  we  have  a  soul  to  be  saved,  an  account  to  ren 
der,  a  Hell  to  shun,  a  Heaven  to  gain." — Saurin. 

"  A.  D.  One,  eight,  three,  nine,"  ffc.— 'Page  110. 

"  Time  is  defined  to  be  the  duration  of  this  world,"  in  the  which  we 
are  "  so  to  number  our  days,  as  to  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom,"  for 
we  are  placed  in  this  state  of  probation,  not  merely  to  govern  states,  or 
to  cultivate  arts  and  sciences,  we  are  placed  here  to  prepare  for  eternity. 
If  therefore  we  have  not  directed  all  our  anxieties  and  exertions,  on 
such  subjects  as  these,  to  the  leading  object  of  eternity,  we  certainly 
have  not  conformed  to  the  views  which  the  Creator  proposed  to  himself 
in  placing  us  in  this  economy  of  expectation  and  trial.  Imagine  not 
that  we  shall  be  judged  according  to  the  ideas  we  ourselves  are  pleased 
to  form  of  our  vocation.  We  are  under  an  economy  of  expectation 
and  trial,  time  is  given  us  to  prepare  for  eternity." — Saurin. 

I  composed  this  piece,  principally  while  travelling  the  streets  in  the 
pursuit  of  my  occupation,  which  is  an  out-door  one,  recollecting  that 
another  year  of  my  ghort  life  had  passed  away  and  brought  me  so  much 
nearer  to  that  eternity,  the  realities  of  which  we  must  all  of  us,  prepar 
ed  or  unprepared,  be  shortly  called  to  prove. 

"Holy  and  retertnd,"  &c. — Page  111. 

For  thus  saith  thejhigh  and  lofty  One  that  inhabited)  Eternity,  whose 
name  is  Holy,  &c.  Isa.  xlvii.  15,  of  whom  also,  it  is  declared  that  He  is 
glorious  in  holiness,  fearful  in  praises,  a  God  doing  wonders.  This 
greatest  and  most  glorious  of  all  beings,  the  moral  Governor  of  the  Uni 
verse,  who  challenges  an  especial  right  and  propriety  in  the  services  of 
all  his  creatures,  because  they  are  all  justly  due  unto  him,  hattrcommand- 
ed  His  creatures  saying  "  Thou  shall  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy 
God  in  vain;  for  the  Lord  will  not  hold  him  guiltless  who  taketh  His 
name  in  vain.  The  2d  commandment  of  the  Decalogue. 

The  Law  saith  do  or  avoid  this  and  live.  The  Gospel  not  only  forbids 
the  outward  act  but  also  restrains  the  inward  desire  and  motion  towards 
it.  The  Law  saith,  thou  shall  not  kill,  thou  shall  not  commit  adultery ; 
nor  forswear  thyself,  &c.  The  Gospel  commands,  give  not  place  to 
anger ;  thou  shall  not  lust,  swear  not  at  all,  &c.  In  this  manner  the 
Gospel  destroys  not  the  moral  law,  but  fulfils  it,  by  taking  away  the  ground 
of  sinful  acts  and  laying  the  axe  of  the  Spirit  to  the  root  of  corruption. — 
Phipps.  "  Blasphemy,  blaptein,  to  hurt,  and phaimai,  reputation.  Curs 
ing  and  swearing,  vile,  reproachful  language,  tending  to  the  dishonour  of 
God." — Bailey.  So  that  both  the  Law  and  the  Gospel  forbid  and  dis 
countenance  profane  swearing. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  205 

•"  Let  Hypocrites  assume,"  fto. — Page  111. 

Religion,  from  Reiigo,  I  bind  fast ;  accordingly,  Religion  properly 
signifies  a  bond  to  bind  ;  which  implies,  that  a  person  who  is  not  bound 
or  united  to  Christ  by  a  living  faith,  of  the  operation  of  God,  bound  or 
knit  to  real  Christians  in  love,  and  he  who  is  not,  as  it  were,  so  bound 
and  attached  to  the  fundamental  truths  of  Christianity,  as  not  only  to 
believe  them  but  to  love  and  walk  in  them,  is  destitute  of  true  Religion, 
and  consequently  enjoys  no  blessings  thereof.  When  we  consider  the 
unsullied  purity  and  absolute  perfection  of  the  Divine  Nature,  and  re 
flect  ou  the  imperfection  of  our  own,  and  the  ungrateful  returns  we 
have  made  to  the  goodness  of  God,  we  must  sink,  or  be  convinced  we 
ought  to  sink,  into  the  deepest  humility  and  prostration  of  soul  before 
him,  and  be  conscious  that  it  is  our  duty  to  repent  of  a  temper  and  con 
duct  so  unworthy  of  our  nature,  and  so  unbecoming  our  obligations  to 
its  Author,  and  to  employ  every  means,  especially  those  prescribed  in 
Holy  Writ,  that  may  bring  us  to  a  right  knowledge  of  that  Religion 
which  will  render  us  acceptable  to  God,  that  will  put  us  in  full  posses 
sion  of  the  blessings  of  that  salvation  which  Jesus  Christ,  the  SOR  of 
God,  has  completed  for  sinners  of  the  human  race,  and  which  salvation 
is  revealed  and  applied  to  their  hearts  by  the  power  and  grace  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  of  God,  which  is  freely  promised  to  all  them  that  ask  it. 

That  Religion  which  inculcates  love  to  Gotland  man,  to  Holiness  and 
and  Truth,  is  the  Religion  recommended  throughout  the  Bible,  and  dic 
tated  by  Christianity. 

On  the  other  hand,  that  Religion  (if  it  may  be  so  called)  which  favors 
superstition  and  idolatry,  profaneness,  vice  and  immorality,  which  is 
inimical  to  truth  and  holiness,  and  to  the  peace  and  happiness  of  society, 
must  be  false,  and  directly  opposite  to  that  proposed  in  the  Scriptures 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  and  established  by  Christ  and  his  Apos 
tles. 

In  proof  of  the  baneful  effects  of  a  false  Religion,  that  is  not  sanction 
ed  by  the  precepts  and  laws  of  Scripture  and  reason,  but  is  evidently  re 
pugnant  to  them  both,  it  has  been  computed  that  since  the  year  251,  not 
fewer  than  nine  millions  seven  hundred  and  thirteen  thousand,  eight  hun 
dred  persons  have  been  burned,  racked  on  the  wheel,  or  otherwise  butch 
ered,  by  religious  bigots  and  enthusiasts,  who,  as  a  celebrated  writer  re 
marks  of  the  Jesuits,  take  their  name  from  Jesus,  but  their  arts  from 
Hell. 

Religion  is  commonly  divided  into  natural  and  revealed.  By  natural 
Religion  is  meant  that  knowledge,  veneration  and  love  of  God,  and  the 
practice  of  those  duties  to  him,  our  fellow  creatures  and  ourselves,  which 
are  discoverable  by  the  right  exercise  of  our  rational  faculties,  from  con 
sidering  the  nature  and  perfections  of  God,  and  our  relation  to  him  and 
to  one  another. 

And  by  revealed  Religion  is  meant,  natural  Religion  explained,  en 
forced  and  enlarged  from  the  express  declaration  of  God  himself  from 
the  mouths  or  pens  of  his  prophets,  &c. — Howard's  Encyclopaedia. 

Religion  may  be  considered  in  three  different  views:  first,  as  contain 
ing  doctrines  relating  to  the  being  and  perfections  of  God,  his  moral  ad 
ministration  of  the  world,  a  future  state  of  existence,  and  particular  com 
munications  to  mankind  by  an  immediate  supernatural  revelation.  Se- 


206  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

condly,  as  a  rule  of  life  and  manners.  Thirdly,  as  the  source  of  certain 
peculiar  affections  of  the  mind,  which  either  give  pleasure  or  pain,  ac 
cording  to  the  particular  genius  and  spirit  of  the  Religion  that  inspires 
them. 

The  end  and  design  of  Religion,  the  proper  effect  and  produce  of  good 
principles  ;  the  good  fruit  of  a  good  tree,  the  ultimate  view,  and  funda 
mental  intention  of  all  religious  truths  implanted  in  men,  either  by  na 
ture  or  teaching,  is  the  practice  of  virtue.  For  the  word  Religion,  in 
its  very  nature  and  original  meaning,  signifies  an  obligation  upon  men 
arising  from  the  reason  of  things,  and  from  the  government  of  God,  to 
do  what  is  just  and  virtuous  and  good,  to  live  in  a  constant  habitual 
sense  and  acknowledgment  of  God  in  the  practice  of  universal  justice 
and  charity  towards  men,  and  in  a  regular  sober  government  of  their 
own  passions,  under  a  firm  persuasion  and  continual  expectation  of  the 
lighteous  distribution  of  rewards  and  punishments  in  theii  proper 
season,  in  the  eternal  judgment  of  God.  This  is  the  foundation  of  Re 
ligion,  the  fundamental  doctrine,  in  all  places  and  at  nil  times,  invariable 
and  eternal. — Clark. 

I  do  not  say  that  the  foregoing  extracts  necessarily  require  any  elabo 
rate  discussion  to  prove  the  orthodoxy  of  the  sentiments  therein  advanc 
ed,  yet  there  are  some  persons  who  cannot,  or  who  will  not  view  truth 
in  the  light  in  which  it  is  presented  to  their  understandings,  be  it  ever 
so  clearly  or  faithfully  represented. 

I  will  not  style  them  cavillers,  but  merely  suppose  them  to  be  actuated 
by  conscientious  scruples.  Should  any  such  persons  object  to  the  extracts 
on  the  ground  of  their  being  too  speculative,  they  are  referred  for  a 
plainer  exposition  of  the  practical  duties  they  contain  to  the  Scriptures; 
and  perhaps  this  one  reference  may  suffice;  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  first 
chapter  of  St.  James  and  at  the  27th  verse  :  '•  Pure  Religion  and  unde- 
filed  before  God  and  the  Father  is  this,"  &c.  Should  more  be  required 
let  them  obey  this  injunction  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  "search  the  Scrip 
tures,"  &,c.  Antinomianism,  which  sprang  up  in  Germany  in  the  17lh 
century,  has  had  its  day ;  and  probably  received  its  quietus  from  the  writ 
ings  of  that  celebrated  Divine  the  Rev.  John  Fletcher,  the  contempora 
ry  of  the  Rev.  John  Wesley. 

The  Antinomians  held  the  keeping  of  Moses'  law  to  be  unprofitable 
under  the  Gospel,  and  that  children  are  born  without  sin ;  and  that  good 
works  do  not  further,  nor  evil  hinder,  but  that  Faith  aloue  is  sufficient 
for  salvation." 

That  children  arc  born  without  sin,  seems  to  be  one  of  the  tenets  of 
the  "  people  called  Quakers,  a  religious  sect  that  arose  in  England  in  the 
time  of  Cromwell,"  &c.,  and  they  undertake  to  prove  it  on  this  wise: 
"  The  immortal  reasonable  soul  of  man,  in  every  individual,  appears  to 
be  the  immediate  production  of  its  Creator;  for  the  prophet  Zechariah, 
speaking  of  the  great  acts  of  God  in  creation  asserts,  that "  He  formeth 
the  spirit  of  man  within  him,"  and  in  Eccles.  xii,  7,  we  read,  upon  the 
death  of  the  body,  "  Then  shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was, 
and  the  spirit  shall  return  unto  God  who  gave  it."  The  soul,  therefore, 
receiving  its  existence  immediately  fromthe  perfection  of  unchangeable 
purity,  can  have  no  original  impurity  or  intemperature  in  its  nature; 
but  being  immediately  and  intimately  connected  with  a  sensitive  body, 
and  of  itself  unable  constantly  to  withstand  the  eagerness  of  the  animal 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  207 

passions  after  gratifications  of  a  carnal  nature,  is  liable  to  be  so  influenced 
by  them,  as  to  partake  with  them  in  their  sensual  indulgencies.  In 
this  state  the  descendants  of  Adam  come  into  the  world  unendued  with 
that  divine  life  which  Adam  fell  from." — J.  Phipps. 

What  I  principally  intended  in  this  distich  was  this,  "  that  true  Religion 
is  always  essentially  the  same,"  see  John  iv.  14.  Therefore  it  cannot  be 
altered  by  the  assumption  of  Hypocrites. 

"  If  a  man  die  shaft,  he  live  again,"  Sfc. — Page  111. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  real  intention  of  pious,  patient  Job,  in 
propounding  the  inquiry :  "  If  a  man  die  shall  he  live  again  ?"  it  is  now 
certain  that  the  question  is  fully  and  satisfactorily  answered  in  the  affirm 
ative  by  the  Gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which  has  brought  "life 
and  immortality  to  light." 

Man  is  destined  to  live  again  in  another  state  of  existence.  In  thia 
present  world  all  live  together  in  one  common  estate,  as  mortal  beings. 
And  though  some  are  righteous,  and  some  are  wicked;  yet  all  are  un 
der  sentence  of  temporal  death.  The  reason  assigned  by  St.  Paul  for 
this  is,  "  because  all  are  sinners." 

Still,  however,  there  is  a  difference,  even  in  this  life  between  sinners; 
for  though  all  be  equally  "  prisoners  of  hope,"  yet  to  some  their  sins  are 
forgiven  them,  while  others  remain  unpardoned. 

The  former  have  complied  with  the  terms  prescribed  in  the  Gospel, 
the  latter  have  neglected  and  refused  such  compliance,  notwithstanding 
those  terms  are  the  richest,  the  freest,  and  most  gratuitous  of  all  terms. 
The  Gospel  offers  life  and  salvation  "  without  money,  without  price,  and 
without  upbraiding;"  and  in  return  only  requires  repentance  towards 
God  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which  are  his  gifts,  and  are  to 
be  obtained  by  asking  him  for  them.  And  that  the  penitent  "  bring 
forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance." — Now  those  who  have  obtained  grace, 
that  is  mercy,  have  not  obtained  it  because  they  were  better  by  nature 
than  their  fellow  men,  for  by  nature  all  are  sinners ;  but  because  they 
sought  it  in  the  only  way  in  which  it  can  be  obtained  by  any  of  our  fall 
en  race.  Not  in  their  own  name,  nor  in  their  own  strength,  but  in  the 
name  and  in  the  strength  of  him  who  is  "  mighty  to  save,",even  Jesus, 
a  chosen  one  from  among  the  people,  who  is  able  to  save  to  the  utter 
most  all  them  that  come  unto  God  by  him. — These  are  they  over  whom, 
judgment  shall  have  no  power  to  condemn  them,  if  they  prove  faithful 
to  the  grace  given  them,  "  because  there  is  no  condemnation  to  them 
that  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  walk  not  after  the  flesh  but  after  the  Spirit." 
And  they  are  new  creatures,  "  for  if  any  man  be  in  Christ  he  is  a  new 
creature,"  "  being  justified  by  Faith  they  have  peace  with  God  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God, 
works  in  them  the  work  ofsanctification  with  power — enabling  them  to 
"  die,  to  sin  and  to  live  to  righteousness,"  and  so  living,  when  the  last 
enemy,  temporal  death,  shall  have  performed  his  office  on  their  bodies, 
their  undying  spirits  shall  be  taken  to  the  enjoyment  of  "  another  aud  & 
better  state  of  existence  than  this." 


208  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

"  Revive  he  shall,  and  in  Heaven  to  reign." 

The  sinners,  properly  so  called,  and  those  who  live  in  sin ;  thereby 
offending  and  provoking  God  by  transgressing  his  law.  They  are  wick 
ed,  impious,  ungodly.  They  practice  unrighteousness,  and  thus  they 
give  evidence  of  their  being  sinners,  "  because  all  unrighteousness  is 
sin."  1  John  v.  17.  They  love  the  world  and  the  things  that  are  in  the 
world,  and  therefore  the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  them.  1  John  ii. 
xv.  In  consequence  of  their  sins  they  are  hateful  to  God,  see  Job  xv. 
16.  They  are  carnal,  and  "to  be  carnally  minded  is  death," — because 
"the  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God,"  &c.,  and  therefore  must  be 
slain,  or  the  sinner  must  receive  "  the  wages  of  sin  which  is  death,"  viz, 
eternal  death. 

Passages  from  Scripture  might  be  quoted  almost  ad  infinitum  to  prove 
the  deplorable  condition  of  sinners,  while  in  their  sins  and  in  their  blood. 
They  are  "  truly  evil  beings,"  and  unless  quickened  from  a  death  in  tres 
passes  and  in  sins,  "  shall  with  all  the  nations  that  forget  God  be  turned 
into  hell,  Psa.  ix.  17.  This  punishment  the  Justice  of  God  will  inflict 
on  the  finally  impenitent  and  guilty;  for  God,  in  giving  a  description  of 
his  character  to  the  children  of  men,  hath  solemnly  assured  them,  that  he 
"  will  in  nowise  clear  the  guilty." 

"  But  if  he  shall  in  his  sins  expire,"  &.C. 

While  permitted  to  continue  in  this  life,  we  possess  a  mixed  state  of 
existence;  joys  and  sorrows  are  mingled  in  our  cup,  of  which  we  parti 
cipate  alternately — for  an  excess  of  either  would  prove  destructive  to  our 
natural  lives.  But  when  death  ushers  us  into  a  world  of  disembodied 
spirits,  if  we  are  unprepared  for  the  change  we  must  not  expect  to  be  re 
ceived  into  those  pure  and  unsullied  climes  of  bliss  and  glory  above, 
where  nothing  that  is  impure  or  unholy  can  ever  enter. 

St.  John  in  his  delightful  description  of  the  "  new  Jerusalem,"  assures 
us  that,  "  there  shall  in  nowise  enter  into  it  any  thing  that  defileth,  neither 
whatsoever  worketh  abomination,  or  maketh  a  lie  ;  but  they  which  are 
written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life,  Rev.  xxi.  27.  And  what  then  will  be 
come  of  those  who  are  not  so  written  ?  He  informs  us  in  the  last  verse 
of  the  previous  chapter,  "  and  whosoever  was  not  found  written  in  the 
book  of  life  was  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire." 

Not  one  word  is  here  said  of  Mercy.  The  Revelation  speaks  of  Jus 
tice,  that  Justice  which  executed  "judgment  upon  all,  and  convinced  all 
the  ungodly  of  all  their  ungodly  deeds,  which  they  had  ungodly  commit 
ted,  and  all  their  hard  speeches  which  ungodly  sinners  had  spoken  against 
the  Lord."  St.  Jude  certainly  has  reference  to  the  day  of  Judgment. 

"  Now  in  the  world  that  never  shall  end,"  &c. 

The  gospel  is  certainly  a  dispensation  of  mercy  to  mankind,  and  it 
offers  a  free  pardon  to  all  who  truly  repent  of  their  sins,  and  heartily  be 
lieve  in  the  Saviour  of  the  World.  It  is  emphatically  good  news  to  the 
fallen  progeny  of  Adam,  declaring  to  them  that  "  now  is  the  accepted 
time  and  now  the  day  of  salvation ;  for  unto  you  a  Saviour  is  born  who 
ia  Christ  the  Lord,  "  and  that  if  they  forsake  their  sins,  and  turn  to. 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  209 

God  with  full  purpose  of  heart,  and  endeavour  after  new  obedience,  He 
is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  them  their  sins,  and  to  cleanse  them  from 
all  unrighteousness." 

Justice,  simply  considered,  13  "equity,  reasonableness,  right,  also  law." 
The  Justice  of  God  is  defined  to  be,  that  perfection  whereby  he  is  infi 
nitely  righteous  and  just,  both  in  himself  and  in  his  proceedings  with 
his  creatures.  Divines  distinguish  it  into  remunerative  and  punitive  jus 
tice.  By  the  former  he  rewards  his  creatures,  not  for  any  merit  of  theira, 
but  in  consequence  of  his  own  gracious  promise,  James  i.  12,  and  2d 
Tim.  iv.  8.  By  the  latter,  viz.  punitive  or  vindictive  justice,  he  inflicts 
punishment  for  any  sin  committed  by  men,  2d  Thes.  i.  6. 

Thus,  without  entering  too  far  into  the  subject  for  our  present  limits, 
it  is  evident,  that  in  this  life  "Justice  and  Mercy  go  hand  in  hand," — 
that  is,  they  harmonize  in  their  operations.  The  Lord  "having  mercy 
on  whom  he  wHl  have  mercy,  or  tiardening  whom  he  will,"  by  which 
hardening  I  think  we  may  understand  God's  permitting  those  to  treasure 
up  for  themselves  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath,  and  revelation  of  his 
righteous  judgment,  who  after  their  hardness  and  impenitent  heart,  des 
pise  the  riches  of  his  goodness,  and  forbearance  and  long-suffering ;  not 
knowing  (considering)  that  his  goodness  leadeth  them  to  repentance. 
Rom.  ii.  4.  5. 

In  this  life  the  wheat  and  tares  grow  together.  Under  this  allegory, 
or  continued  metaphor  our  blessed  Saviour  represents  the  righteous  and 
the  wicked,  and  by  the  mutual  growth  of  the  Wheat  and  the  Tares,  the 
different  relations  of  life,  which  are  not  to  be  disturbed  but  by  death. 

"  Here  the  wheat  and  tares  together  blen<V'  &c. 

After  death  those  who  were  despisers  and  neglecters  of  the  great 
salvation  provided  for  them  in  time,  will  suffer  for  such  despite  and  neg 
lect,  the  vengeance  of  eternal  fire. 

"  For  the  time  must  come  when  all  the  dead,"  &c. 

But  in  the  judgment  of  "the  great  day,"  while  the  wicked  are  con 
demned  the  righteous  shall  be  acquitted  by  his  justice,  because  they  "be 
lieved  in  Christ." 

"  And  that  Justice,  sure  as  Holy  Writ,"  &e. 

And  now  what  remains  but  to  exhort  the  sinner  to  flee  from  the  wratft 
to  come,  and  to  lay  hold  of  the  only  hope  set  before  him  in  the  gospel. 

And  what  motives  shall  be  urged  to  persuade  him  to  pursue  so  desirea- 
ble  a  course  ?  Shall  they  be  drawn  from  reason_?  If  so,  reason  say« 
you  are  "  formed  averse  to  pain,"  and  therefore  you  are  in  pursuit  of 
happiness ;  but  you  are  in  error  and  will  certainly  miss  your  mark  if  you 
pursue  it  in  by  and  forbidden  paths :  vice  leads  to  misery  and  not  to  happi 
ness,  and  all  vice  is  founded  in  error.  Or  from  experience  consultyour 
past  life,  compare  it  with  your  present  feelings,  and  with  your  prospects 
beyond  the  grave.  Or  shall  Scripture  be  allowed  to  speak?  Only  read 
over  carefully  "  the  General  Epistle  of  Jude  ;"  it  is  not  "a  bundle  of 
straw,"  as  some  have  called  the  General  Epistle  of  James ;  and  with,  tbe/ 

s* 


310  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

blessing  of  the  Lord,  it  may  induce  you  to  "seek  your  chief  good," 
which  is  only  to  be  found  "  by  drawing  nigh  unto  the  Lord."  And  may 
he  so  draw  you  continually  to  himself  by  "the  cords  of  his  love,  a* 
with  the  bands  of  a  man,"  that  your  willing  feet  may  move  in  swift 
obedience  to  his  blessed  will. 

Or  peruse  the  thirty-fourth  Psalm  of  David,  and  there  you  will  dis 
cover  what  it  is  to  be  "  righteous  persons,"  and  what  are  their  privileges, 
and  should  you  obtain  the  experience  of  that  eminently  devoted  ser 
vant  of  the  Lord,  you  will  know  that  Religion  is  not  a  "  cunningly  de 
vised  fable,"  and  that  "  wisdom's  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  alt 
her  (flowery)  paths  are  peace." 

"Sinner  with  all  excuse  away,"&c. 

Our  blessed  Saviour  directs  us  all  "  to  work  while  it  is  called  lo-day," 
and  for  this  special  reason,  because  "  the  night  of  death  cometh  when  na 
man  can  work."  Many  people  speak  against  works  ;  if  they  mean  good 
works,  they  are  Antinomians,  persons  "  who  hold  doctrines  that  clearly 
supersede  the  necessity  of  good  works."  But  there  is  one  work  which 
it  would  be  well  for  all  men  to  consider  indispensable,  and  therefore  not 
to  omit  the  performance  of  it  at  their  peril,  and  that  is  the  "  working 
«ut  their  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,"  &e. 

"  For  the  world  to  which  we  all  must  go,"  &c. 

"  Heaven,"  says  the  Theologian,  "  is  to  be  considered  as  a  place  as  well 
as  a  state,"  and  for  its  being  so  termed  expressly,  refers  to  John  xiv.  2,  3  ; 
and  further,  we  are  assured  that  it  is  a  place  of  inexpressible  felicity. 
Rev.  xxi.  22.  &c.  Hell  is  the  place  of  divine  punishment  after  death. 
Luke  xvii.  21.  &c. 

Now  reason  is  sufficient  to  convince  us  that  God  will  not  send  his 
friends  to  the  latter,  nor  permit  his  foes  to  enter  the  former  place. 

What  question  then  can  be  raisedton  the  subject,  except  it  be  thelength 
and  duration  of  the  torments  of  the  wicked,  and  the  felicity  of  the  right 
eous?  Can  the  truth  be  exceeded  by  the  derision  of  the  Scriptures  ?  To 
that  decision,  therefore,  we  confidently  appeal,  and  it  is  this  :  "  And  these 
shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment,  but  the  righteous  into  life 
eternal,"  Matt,  xxiii.  26. 

"The  will  of  God,"  according  to  the  theologian,  is  taken — first,  for 
that  which  he  hath  from  all  eternity  determined,  which  is  unchangeable, 
and  must  certainly  come  to  pass  ;  this  is  called  his  secret  will.  Second, 
it  is  taken  for  what  he  has  prescribed  to]us  in  his  word  as  a  rule  of  duty, 
this  is  called  his  revealed  will.  The  human  will  is  that  faculty  of  the 
soul,  by  which  it  chooses  or  refuses  any  thing  offered  to  it.  The  nature 
of  the  will  is  in  itself  indisputably  free.  Let  us  then,  without  contro 
verting  the  subject,  submit  our  wills  to  the  guidance  and  direction  of  him 
who  gave  them  to  us,  "  originally  created  with  the  liberty  and  power  to 
do  what  was  pleasing  in  his  sight,"  and  he  will  graciously  restore  to  us 
that  "  ability  of  will  to  spiritual  good,  which  man  lost  by  the  fall."  And  if 
we  are  led  by  his  Spirit,  "then  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  if  sons, 
then  heirs  of  God,  and  joint  heirs  with  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  What 
more  can  we  reasonably  desire  either  for  this  life  or  the  life  to  come  ? 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  211 

"For  God  hath  a  will  above  all  wills,"  &c. 

ALL   WILLS  ARE    RIGHT    IN    THE    NEW  JERUSALEM. 

Then  let  the  will  of  mm  be  free, 

To  Heaven  alone  confined ; 
Unrighteousness  the  world  shall  fleer 

And  saved  be  all  mankind. 

But  this  event  shall  not  arrive, 

Till  earth  and  Heavens  new, 
Where  sin  and  wickedness  now  thrive, 

Shall  stand  confess  d  to  view. 


Heaveirkfndl7grSanUtPS/peedr' 
When  he  who  sits  enthroned  in  pow'r, 
Shall  all  make  new  indeed. 

The  Lamb — his  bridal  city  this, 

The  city  fair  and  bright, 
^ills  with  unutterable  bliss; 

There  every  will  is  right. — .Kel. 


Fill 


"  Some  say  of  evil  money  is,"  &c. — Page  111. 

The  frequency  of  hearing  the  observation,  "money  is  the  root  ofalS 
evil,"  induced  me  to  compose  this  distich. 

St.  Paul  in  the  6th  chapter  of  his  Epistle  to  Timothy,  his  son  in  the 
Gospel,  treating  on  "  the  great  gain  of  godliness,"  in  the  10th  verse  of 
that  chapter,  observes,  "For  the  love  of  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil." 

The  term  or  expression  "  love  of  money,"  in  my  Greek  Testament, 
"  Juxta  exemplar  Joannis  millii,"  is  comprised  in  the  compound  word 
"  Philarguria,"  which  Schrevelius  renders  avaritia,  avarice — from  philos 
amicus,  a  friend  or  lever,  and  arguros,  argentum,  which,  according  to 
Ainsworth,  in  its  primary  signification  means,  properly,  silver  in  the  mass, 
bullion;  2nd,  all  things  made  thereof;  3d,  coin,  or  money,  made  there 
of;  which  word  money,  the  Latins  called  nummus,  or  numus,  and  also 
moneta,  because  of  the  stamp  or  impression  upon  money,  which  ancient 
ly  was  the  effigy  or  likeness  of  some  god,  or  goddess,  that  looking  up 
on  it,  they  might  be  put  in  mind  of  the  Deity.  Hence,  doubtless,  "mon- 
etalis,  a  moneyer — a  usurer — lucro  inhians — a  person  gaping  after  gain. 

But  I  will  not  here  undertake  to  account  for  the  origin  of  idolatry, 
philologically ;  as  this  might  lead  to  much  unprofitable  speculation. 
Idolatry  is  defined  to  be  '•  the  worship  of  idols,  or  the  act  of  ascribing 
to  things  and  persons,  properties  which  are  peculiar  to  God  alone." 

Idolatry  has  been  divided  into  metaphorical  and  proper.  By  metaphor 
ical  idolatry,  is  meant  that  inordinate  love  of  riches,  honors  and  bodily 
pleasures,  whereby  the  passions  and  appetites  of  men  are  made  supe 
rior  to  the  will  of  God  ;  man,  by  so  doing,  making  a  god  of  himself  and 
his  sensual  temper.  Proper  idolatry  is  giving  the  divine  honor  to  anoth 
er.  The  objects  or  idols  of  that  honor  which  are  given,  are  either  per 
sonal,  i.  e.,  the  idolatrous  themselves,  who  become  their  own  statues ;  OK 


21*  NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS. 

internal,  as  false  ideas,  which  are  set  up  in  the  fancy  instead  of  God,  such 
as  fancying  God  to  be  light,  flame,  matter,  &c.,  only  here  the  sense  be 
ing  internal,  the  scandal  of  the  sin  is  thereby  abated ;  or  external,  as  the 
worshipping  of  angels,  the  sun,  stars,  animals,  &c. — Buck's  T.  D. 

That  very  learned  prelate,  M.  Bossuet,  Bishop  of  JVIeaux,  &c.,  thus  ac 
counts  for  the  origin  of  idolatry.  "  The  spirit  who  had  beguiled  the  first 
man,  tasted  now  the  fruit  of  his  seduction,  and  beheld  the  complete  ef 
fects  of  his  saying,  ye  shall  be  as  gods.  From  the  moment  he  uttered  it, 
he  designed  to  confound  in  man  the  idea  of  God,  with  that  of  the  crea 
ture,  and  to  divide  a  name  whose  majesty  consists  in  being  incommuni 
cable.  His  scheme  succeeded.  Men  subjected  themselves  to  the  tyranny 
of  their  senses ;  the  senses  decided  every  thing,  and  made,  in  spite  of 
reason,  all  the  gods  that  were  adored  upon  earth." — Universal  History, 
page  138. 

Bat  the  love  of  money,  which  comes  under  the  head  of  metaphorical  idol 
atry,  must  certainly  have  its  origin  in  coretousness,  which. is  a  rice  forbid 
den  in  the  decalogue,  "  Thou  shalt  not  covet,"  &c. 

"  That  man  isform'd,"  &c. — Page  113. 

This  piece  or  epithalamium,  was  composed  at  the  request  of  a  friend, 
for  two  young  persons  who  have  since  become  "  man  and  wife," — and 
have  removed  to  that  part  of  the  country,  to  which  the  husband  be 
longs.  This  friend  represented  them  as  both  being  pious ;  as  such  may 
they  continue  during  their  stay  in  this  world,  and  unceasingly  test  the  ac 
curacy  of  the  motto,  that, 

"  Congenial  souls  alone  can  prove, 

The  pure  delights  of  wedded  love." — KeL 

"  Suavitr.r  in  Modo,"  Sfc. — Page  114. 

Some  people  have  so  high  an  opinion  of  their  own  consequence,  that 
they  cannot  condescend  to  treat  an  inferior  even  with  common  civility. 
This  is  a  sure  indication  of  pride,  and  pride  and  meanness  always  go 
together;  a  proud  man  is  a  mean  man.  But,  says  Sterne,  "pride  was 
not  made  for  man,"  and  therefore  we  may  conclude  that  man  was  not 
made  for  pride.  The  Apostle  Paul  directs,  "  mind  not  high  things,  but 
condescend  to  men  of  low  estate."  Besides,  the  inferior  in  point  of  for 
tune  may  be  decided  by  the  superior  in  the  eyes  of  both  God  and  all  truly 
upright  men.  Firmness  of  character  in  the  performance  of  whatever  is 
right  and  proper  is  highly  estimable,  and  gives  proof  that  reliance  may 
be  placed  on,  and  confidence  reposed  in  the  person  by  whom  it  is  exer 
cised. 

"  In  every  state,"  Sfc. — Page  115. 

,;     ,.  j^Ttil? 

Moderation  is  the  state  of  keeping  a  due  medium  between  extremes, 
calmness,  temperance  or  equanimity.  It  is  sometimes  used  with  refer 
ence  to  our  opinions,  Rom,  xxii.  3_;  but  in  general  it  respects  our  con- 


NOTES  ON  THE  SPECIMENS.  215 

duct  in  that  state  which  comes  under  the  description  of  ease  or  prosperi 
ty,  and  ought  to  take  place  in  our  wishes, pursuits,  expectations,  pleasures 
and  passions." 

"  Jesus  Christ,  the  Father's  Son,"  #c.— Page  115. 

"  Behold  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock,  if  any  man  hear  my  voice 
and  will  open  the  door,  I  will  come  in  to  him  and  will  sup  with  him,  and 
he  with  me,"  Rev.  iii.  20.  According  to  "  exposition  of  Christian  doc 
trines  of  the  Moravians,"  the  dam  is  now  broken  down  by  Christ,  which 
prevented  the  stream  of  the  loving-kindness  and  grace  of  God  from  be 
ing  poured  out  upon  us."  Let  us  beware,  therefore,  how  we  bar  Christ 
out  of  our  hearts  by  unbelief. 

Oh  that  tee  may  to  the  end, 
Faithfully  on  him  depend. — Kel. 

Christ's  standing  at  the  door,  says  Mr.  Phipps,  "  is  his  wonderful  con 
descension,  patience  and  long  forbearance,  in  waiting  on  the  soul  of  manr 
as  for  an  entrance  :  that  as  he  is  a  rational  creature,  he  may  be  prevailed 
with,  willingly  to  open  his  heart  to  the  Redeemer  and  receive  him.  He 
knocks,  or  calls  in  spirit  by  influencing  the  soul,  in  its  seasons  of  quietude, 
so  as  to  excite  inclinations  and  desires  towards  good,  and  also  at  other 
times,  by  distressing  it  with  the  painful  sensations  of  guilt  and  remorse 
for  sinful  pursuits  and  practices ; — and  man  must  receive  him  by 
resigning  his  attachment  to  self,  and  the  propensities  of  sense,  and  hum 
bly  adhering  to  the  voice  or  present  manifestations  of  the  Spirit. 

And  the  Lord  comes  in  and  sups  with  man,  and  makes  him  a  partaker 
of  his  supper.  When  the  spirit  of  Christ  is  received  by  the  soul  in  faith, 
love,  and  due  submission,  he  proceeds  by  degrees  to  set  it  at  liberty  from 
the  bondage  of  corruption,  for  where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  (in  pos 
session)  there  is  liberty,"  2d  Cor.  iii.  17  ;  and  when  he  has  brought  the 
soul  to  a  proper  degree  of  pacification,  be  sheds  the  comfort  of  his  love 
into  it ;  and  makes  it  a  partaker  of  the  communion  of  saints,  which  ia 
inward  and  spiritual.  This  is  the  true  supper  of  the  Lord.  He  who  par 
ticipates  of  this,  discerns  and  tastes  the  Lord's  spiritual  body,  and  experi 
ences  it  to  be  "  meat  indeed,  and  his  blood  to  be  drink  indeed." 

I  shall  conclude  this  note  by  observing,  that  during  the  seven  years  I 
was  Librarian  at  the  Parsonage  House,  next  door  to  the  old  Methodist 
Church  in  John -street,  I  made  many  valuable  extracts  from  the  books  in 
my  charge  ;  which  of  themselves,  nearly  fill  my  common-place  book  of 
many  pages.  But  though  I  cannot  insert  them  all  in  my  notes,  yet  1 
trust  the  following  extract  will  not  prove  unacceptable  to  my  religious 
readers. 

CHRIST'S  DYING  EXCLAMATION. — "  /  thirst." 

I  thrist,  the  Prince  of  heaven  expiring  cries^ 
I  thirst,  and  lifts  his  agonizing  eyes  ; 

. 


214  NOTES  ON  THE  FRAGMENTS. 

O,  drink  my  spouse,  and  satiate  thy  call, 

Though  the  sad  cup  embitter'd  tastes  with  gall; 

Yet  drink  my  spouse,  to  Heaven's  high  will  resign"  d, 

And  be  the  health,  "Salvation  to  mankind.'1 — Armenian  Magazine. 

"  How  strange  seem  the  scenes,"  fyc. — Page  117. 

I  composed  this  piece  as  a  finale  or  conclusion  to  my  Specimens. 

It  may  be  deemed  by  some  irregular,  but  if  it  was  not  in  my  power  to 
make  it  better,  why  then  it  was  my  misfortune,  and  I  must  request  my 
readers  to  take  "  the  will  for  the  deed." 

Perhaps  I  may  never  trouble  the  public  to  travel  through  another  book 
of  Specimens  of  any  description. 


NOTES  ON  THE  FRAGMENTS. 

"  As  onward  in  life's  nigged,"  &c. — Page  120. 

From  the  title  of  this  intended  to  be,  lengthy  piece,  it  might  be  sup 
posed  that  I  proposed  essaying  to  write  an  Epic  Poem.  Whether  the 
subject  would  warrant  such  an  undertaking,  I  am  not  at  present  exactly 
prepared  to  asseit. 

It  is  true  that  as  far  as  I  hare  proceeded  in  my  intention  to  exhibit  my 
improved  plan  of  English  elementary  teaching,  my  piece  is  Epikos, 
Epic,  because  it  consists  of  Heroic  or  Hexameter  verse.  But  this  much 
might  be  affirmed  of  all  poems  consisting  of  ten  syllables  to  each  line. 
"  An  Epic  Poem,  however,  has  another  characterestic ;  and  requires  al 
ways  to  have  for  its  subject  a  Hero,  or  some  great  person."  Yet  this 
much  I  feel  myself  warranted  in  asserting — hypothetically  by  the  by — 
that  if  an  English  elementary  teacher,  "  is  really  a  Hero  or  some  great 
person/'  then  the  Scholiad  may  justly  claim,  when  completed,  to  be  en 
titled  an  Epic  Poem. 

My  design,  however,  was  simply  to  show  the  superiority  of  my  plan 
over  the  old  fashioned  one,  on  which  I  had  been  previously  teaching. 
I  think  it  not  necessary  here  to  detail  this  plan.  Suffice  it  to  say  it  gave 
entire  satisfaction  to  my  employers,  who  intrusted  two  hundred  and  ten 
scholars  to  my  tuition,  whom  I  taught  with  only  the  assistance  of  my  sis 
ter  Phebe,  for  the  smaller  children,  she  being  then  about  eighteen  years 
of  age. 

During  my  stay  at  Albany,  I  gave  my  plan  to  Mr.  Walter  Badger,  to 
whose  school  I  sent  my  children.  He  assured  me  it  succeeded  to  admi 
ration,  and  that  his  school  room  was  crowded  to  overflowing. 

The  care  of  providing  for  my  family,  prevented  me  from  finishing  the 
Scholiad,  and  so  it  became  of  necessity  a  Fragment. 

"  To  feast  his  tico  eyes,"  Sfc.— Page  128. 

This  piece  has  remained  so  long  in  my  School  Journal,  that  I  have 
forgotten  my  original  intention  in  commencing  it,  as  well  as  the  reason 


. 


NOTES  ON  THE  FRAGMENTS.  S15 

that  induced  me  to  leave  it  in  its  present  unfinished  state.  I  think  it 
probable,  I  had  it  in  contemplation  to  describe  the  interior  of  the  Arsen 
al.  I  had  often  visited  this  public  store-house  of  Arms  ;  and  the  Gener 
al,  better  known  as  Colonel  Platt,  was  particularly  friendly  to  me,  so  that 
I  could  readily  obtain  the  access  necessary  to  facilitate  my  desire.  Bat 
as  it  is  unfinished,  and  though  as  such  I  have  given  it,  yet  I  think  it  might 
afford  materials  for  the  composition  of  a  Poem  both  interesting  and 
amusing  ;  particularly  to  young  men  who  are  possessed  of  a  "  military 
turn." 

"  A  bark  from  Columbia,"  Sfc. — Page  123. 

In  this  piece  I  intended  a  description  of  the  "shipwreck"  of  the  Bark 
Commerce,  commanded  by  Captain  James  Riley,  and  which  occurred 
some  twenty-eight  years  ago.  Captain  Riley  gave  a  relation  of  this  fact, 
with  its  consequent  circumstances,  in  a  publication  styled  '*  An  authen 
tic  narrative  of,"  &c.  At  the  time  of  the  publication  of  this  work,  I  was 
well  acquainted  with  its  contents,  having,  in  conjunction  with  Mr.  Bleeck- 
er,  the  Examiner  in  Chancery,  assisted  the  Captain  in  its  diction ;  be 
sides,  he  had  presented  me  with  one  of  his  books.  But  unfortunately, 
I  lost  it,  either  by  loaning  it,  or  in  some  other  way  which  I  have  now 
forgotten,  and  when  I  came  to  the  place  where  I  have  stopped,  I  could 
go  no  further,  neither  could  I  procure  another  book  without  purchas 
ing  it,  and  so  the  piece  remained  unfinished. 

••  Then  we'll  pledge  Swara's  Consul,"  &c. 

William  Willshire,  Esq.,  was  Consul  at  Mogadore,  and  released  the 
Captain  and  his  companions  from  slavery,  by  purchasing  them  from  their 
masters,  the  Arabs. 

The  piece  was  intended  for  a  song,  and  any  person  who  has  a  roice 
for  singing,  may  sing  it  to  the  tune  called  "my  dog  and  my  gun." 

"  Thy  Swiss  friend  no  more,"  &c. 

The  name  of  his  vessel  was  the  "  William  Tell,"  and  ou  board  of  her 
I  understand  he  died  on  his  homeward  bound  voyage. 

"  His  ponderous  tread,"  &c. 

Captain  Riley  was  a  large  man.  He  states  in  his  narrative  that  in  his 
younger  days,  he  "  stood  six  feet  two  inches," — exactly  the  height  of 
General  Washington,  in  his  youthful  days,  according  to  his  biography. 


But  why  swear  an  oath,"  &c. 

t 
( 

8\ 


I  heard  him  swear  he  never  would  go  to  sea  again.    Why  he  altered 
his  mind,  as  I  never  asked  him,  I  cannot  tell. 


216  NOTES  ON  THE  FRAGMENTS. 

"  God  nothing  owes  to  fallen  man,"  &c. — Page  124. 

Though  this  might,  perhaps,  pass  for  a  finished  piece,  yet  I  have  thought 
proper  to  insert  it  among  the  Fragments.  I  might  have  entered  more 
extensively  into  the  subject ;  the  held  is  ample,  I  had  almost  said  bound 
less.  Yet  I  surrender  it  to  some  more  talented  poet,  who  may,  if  he 
pleases,  prosecute  it  to  an  Epic  Poem,  and  entitle  it  the  "  Proseuchiad." 

"  We're  fatten  on  evil  days,"  Sfc.—Page  125. 

I  believe  I  only  intended  when  I  elected  Reform  as  a  subject  to  write 
upon,  to  consider  it  merely  in  the  light  of  retrenchment  in  expenditures  in 
superfluous  articles,  in  wearing  apparel,  equipage,  and  certain  other  phys 
ical  et  cetros.  But  when  I  found  the  theme  was  susceptible  of  still  further 
progression)  and  that  my  lucubrations  might  be  so  extended  as  to  embrace 
both  mind  and  matter,  the  prospect  of  a  successful  termination  wearied 
my  mind,  and  like  the  Sculptor,  abstenui  i.  e. — I  condemned  it  to  the  de 
partment  of  Fragments,  and  there  it  must  remain. 

"  A  day  will  come,"  <f-c. — Page  126. 

As  I  commenced  the  "  Specimens"  with  what  might  be  termed^/ewcra, 
or  lighter,  so  I  was  minded  to  end  them  with  graviora  or  weightier  mat 
ter,  and  what  subject,  thought  I,  so  appropriate  to  my  purpose  as  that  all 
absorbing  one  "  the  Day  of  Judgment."  I  had  not,  however,  proceeded 
very  far  in  the  prosecution  of  my  design  when  I  accidentally  opened  the 
second  volume  of  Henry  Kirk  White's  poems,  and  at  page  144  of  Bed- 
lington  and  Ewer's  Boston  edition,  1823,  my  attention  was  arrested  by  the 
following  critical  note  on  his  "  Christiad"  a  Divine  poem.  "  This  was 
the  work  which  Henry  had  most  at  heart.  His  riper  judgment  would 
probably  have  perceived  that  the  subject  was  ill  chosen.  What  is  said  so 
well  in  the  Censura  Literaria,  of  all  scriptual  subjects  for  narrative  poetry, 
applies  peculiarly  to  this.  '  Any  thing  taken  from  it  leaves  the  story  im 
perfect  ;  any  thing  added  to  it  disgusts,  and  almost  shocks  us  as  impious. 
As  Omar  said  of  the  Alexandrian  Library,  we  may  say  of  such  writings, 
if  they  contain  only  what  is  in  the  scriptures  they  are  superfluous  ;  if  what 
is  not  in  them  they  are  false.' "  Discovering  myself  to  be  in  the  same  pre 
dicament  as  this  highly  talented  young  man,  I  deem  it  advisable  to  dis 
continue  the  piece,  and  to  consign  what  I  had  already  written  to  the  de 
partment  of  "  Fragments." 

Should  my  readers  discover  that  any  other  of  my  Compositions  deserve 
the  aforementioned  censure,  all  that  remains  for  me  to  urge  as  an  apol 
ogy  is, 

"  I  only  this  in  my  defence  can  say, 

I  read  the  caution  at  too  late  a  day," — Kel, 

"  Faithful,  well  done,"  &c.,  line  26. 

And  does  such  vast,  such  momentous  importance  attach  itself  to  one 
single  qualified  word?  "  Words  (says  the  Rev.  Wm.  Burkett,  the  Com- 


NOTES  ON  THE  ANALECTA.  217 

mentator,)  are  physically  transient,  but  morally  permanent."  "Words 
(says  the  Annotator  of  Claude)  may  be  used  in  a  literal,  metonymica!, 
popular,  theological  and  juridical  sense." 

In  the  latter  sense,  will  be  the  sentence  passed  on  the  righteous  and 
the  wicked  in  "  Tlte  Day  of  Judgment,"  it  will  be  juridical,  it  will  be 
final  and  eternal. 


NOTES  ON  THE  ANALECTA. 

"  Man  by  his  strength  afspirU  may,"  Sfc. — Page  129. 

The  prophet  Nathan  said  unto  King  David,  "  Thou  art  the  man,"  and 
how  his  spirit  was  affected  by  the  severe  and  pointed  reproof  of  the 
prophet,  may  be  known  by  perusing  his  fifty-first  Psalm,  q.  jr.,  which 
flee. 

"Satan  though  he,"  ^c.— Page  129. 

Without  searching  the  Scripture  for  proof  of  Satan  being  a  deceiver 
&c.  perhaps  the  following  account  given  of  his  character  by  the  Moravian 
brethren  will  be  sufficient  " in  hoc  loco"  in  this  place.  "No  spirit  was 
created  evil ;  for  God  can  create  nothing  that  in  itself  is  evil.  But  the 
Devil  and  his  adherents  abode  not  in  the  truth,  i.  e.  in  the  holiness  their 
Creater  endued  them  with,  Jno.  viii.  48 :  For  the  Devil  and  his  angela 
left  their  own  habitation,  and  their  principality,  which  means  their  glori 
ous  state,  Jude,  6th  verse,  and  by  their  sin,  Jno.  iii.  8,  drew  a  heavy  judg 
ment  down  upon  themselves,  2d  Pet.  ii.  4.  The  Dragon  is  called  Satan, 
because  he  is  the  enemy  of  all  good, — the  Devil,  because  he  delights  in 
lies,  deceit  and  accusation, — the  old  Serpent,  because  he.  beguiled  Eva 
with  his  subtlety,  2d  Cor.xi.3.  Therefore  also  Christ  calls  him  a  murderer 
from  the  beginning,  for  he  plunged  our  first  parents  into  death ;  and  also 
the  father  of  lies,  because  he  imposed  a  lie  upon  our  first  parents,  telling 
them  that  they  surely  should  not  die,  but  be  like  God,  if  they  would  eatof 
the  forbidden  fruit.  Jno.  viii.  44. 

But  a  period  is  determined  on  by  the  eternal  mind,"when  "  the  Devil 
who  deceived  them,  shall  be  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone, 
where  the  beast  and  the  false  prophet  are,  and  shall  be  tormented  day 
and  night,  for  ever  and  ever,"  Rev.  xx,  10. 

"  That  he  intends  to  tell  you,"— Page  131. 

May  be  considered  as  a  part  of"  leisure  hours  poetically  employed," 
and  merely  extracted  from  some  of  my  poetry  which  I  would  not 
present  as  a  whole. 


218  NOTES  ON  THE  ANALECTA. 

"  Suffer  on  and  out  your  hour,"  Sfc. — Page  133. 

"  Patience  is  a  virtue  enabling  to  bear  affliction  and  pain  with  calnv 
ness  of  mind." — Bailey. 

Or,  "  that  calm  and  unruffled  temper  with  which  a  good  man  bears 
the  evils  of  life." — Buck. 

In  every  circumstance  of  life  no  virtue  is  more  important  both  to  du'.j 
and  to  happiness." — Ibid. 

"  Christian  patience  is  essentially  different  from  insensibility,  whether 
natural,  artificial  or  acquired." — Mason. 

For  further  information  on  the  subject  of  patience,  the  reader  is  refer 
red  to  "  Buck's  Theological  Dictionary,"  page  429,  Woodworth's  Phil 
adelphia  Edition,  1821.  This  is  a  most  valuable  work,  and  were  itmore 
generally  read  and  appealed  to,  it  would  doubtless  prove  the  means  of 
preventing  many  unnecessary  altercations  in  the  Christian  world. 

•       ''  To  tfunk  aright,  much  more,"  &c. — Page  134. 

"  Truth,  a  term  used  in  opposition  to  falsehood,  and  applied  to  pro 
positions  which  answer  or  accord  to  the  nature  and  reality  of  the  thing 
whereof  something  is  affirmed  or  denied.  Natural,  or  physical  truth, 
is  said  to  be  the  agreement  of  our  sentiments  with  the  nature  of  things. 
Moral  truth  is  the  conformity  of  our  words  and  actions  to  our  senti 
ments.  Evangelical  or  gospel  truth  is  taken  for  Christ,  the  Doctrines 
of  the  Gospel,  substance  or  reality,  in  opposition  to  the  shadows  and 
ceremonies  of  the  law.  John  i.  17.  For  this  truth  we  ought  to  be  sin 
cere  in  seeking,  zealous  in  defending,  and  active  in  propagating ;  highly 
to  prize  it,  constantly  to  rejoice  in  it,  and  uniformly  to  be  obedient  to  it," 

"  Emblem  of  the  lily  fair,"  Sfc.—Page  134. 

This  sonnet  I  commenced  at  a  very  early  period  of  my  life,  and  sup 
posing  I  had  an  equal  right  with  other  poets  to  choose  a  mistress  for  my 
self,  I  at  length  brought  it  to  such  a  conclusion  as  pleased  myself;  wheth 
er  it  did  her  or  not,  I  cannot  say,  as  I  have  forgotten  who  she  was,  and 
all  about  her. 

"For  if  politeness,"  SfC.—Page  134. 

"  Politeness,"  I  think,  a  certain  Author  observes,  "  is  based  on,  and 
is  the  exercise  of  the  principle  of  good  sense." 

"  Politeness,  genuine  politeness,"  observes  another  Author,  "  is  a  com 
bination  of  discretion,  civility,  "complaisance,  circumspection  and  mo 
desty,  accompanied  with  an  agreeable  air,  which  expands  itself  upon 
whatever  you  say  or  do." 

Even  religion  itself,  it  would  appear,  is  not  sufficient  to  excuse  a  per 
son  from  the  exercise  of  politeness.  I  have  heard  it  asserted  from  the 
pulpit,  that  religion  does  not  prevent  a  man  from  being  a  gentleman ; 
and  one  minister,  in  my  own  hearing,  proved  this  assertion  by  a  quota 
tion  from  the  14th  verse  of  the  7th  chapter  of  the  "  Revelations,"  where 
St.  John  answers  the  Elder,  "  and  I  said  unto  him,  Sir,  thou  knowest." 


NOTES  ON  THE  ANALECTA.  219 

After  this,  no  more  I  presume,  need  be  urged  in  proof  of  the  necessity 
of  politeness  to  the  well  being,  nay,  to  the  very  existence  of  society. 

"  Wouldst  tlwu  of  thy  whole  duty,"  Sfc. — Page  135. 

The  Scripture  assures  us,  that  "  to  fear  God  and  to  keep  his  com 
mandments  is  the  whole  duty  of  man."  It  is  therefore  not  only  the  duty 
but  the  interest  of  man  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  commands  of  hia 
Maker,  and  to  keep  them  as  a  rational,  intelligent  and  an  accountable 
creature,  and  to  pray  him,  continually,  to  put  his  fear  in  his  heart,  and 
bis  fear  before  his  eyes,  that  he  may  live  in  his  fear  and  die  in  his  favor. 

"  The  toll-man,"  Sfc.— Page  135. 

On  my  first  visit  to  Philadelphia,  in  company  with  my  brother-in-lawr, 
I  asked  the — as  we  call  him  in  New- York — ferry-master,  what  was  the 
fare  ?  He  answered  me  two  cents.  I  handed  them  to  him,  when,  sliding 
them  apart  with  his  thumb  and  finger,  a  sixpenny,  or  according  to  Phil- 
adelphian  denomination,  a  five,  pronounced  fippenny  bit,  made  its  ap 
pearance,  "  here,"  said  he,  handing  it  to  me,  "  you  meant  to  cheat  me, 
did  you  ?"  Though  I  have  never  seen  him  since,  I  cannot,  however, 
help  considering  him  an  honest  man. 

"  Sinners  pray,"  &e. — Page  135. 

See  2d  Peter,  3d  chapter,  9th  verse,  and  also  the  7th  Terse  of  the 
same  chapter,  and  let  us  ask  ourselves  what  construction  we  ought  to 
put  on  the  latter  clause  of  this  verse.  "  The  day  of  Judgment  and  per 
dition,  i.  e.,  utter  ruin  and  destruction  of  ungodly  men  T 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen,"  8fc. — Page  136. 

All  I  have  to  say  in  relation  to  this  piece  is,  that  I  composed  it  at  the 
request  of  a  particular  friend,  for  the  purpose  mentioned  in  the  heading. 

"  What  then,  do  all  tlie  good,"  Sfc.— Page  139. 

"  There  is  always  life  for  a  living  man,"  was  a  favorite  expression  of 
an  old  lady,  an  acquaintance  of  mine.  By  which  she  meant  to  be  un 
derstood  that  every  industrious  man  might  gain  a  livelihood  by  his  labor. 

"  In  vain  you  fly,"  ffc. — Page  139. 

Ridicule  is  "  that  which  is  ridiculous,  jest,  mockery,  laughing-stock." 
Which  of  these  appellations  does  truth  deserve  ?  "  There  is  no  beauty," 
says  the  moral  philosopher,  "  where  there  is  no  truth,"  and  so  we  may  say 
of  religion  ;  and  a  certain  Author  observes  that  "it  is  a  most  odious  and 
contemptible  character,  that  of  playing  the  wit  at  the  expense  of  religion, 
•nd  things  sacred ;  such  as  talk  jestingly  of  mysteries  they  ought  to  rev- 


220  NOTES  ON  THE  ANALECTA. 

erence,  don't  so  much  discover  the  beauty  of  their  parts,  as  the  deformity 
of  their  morals." 

Truth,  according  to  Mr.  Locke,  "  is  the  joining  or  separating  of  signs, 
as  the  things  signified  by  them  do  agree  or  disagree  with  one  another." 
Whatever  therefore  you  may  think  of  testing  truth  by,  let  it  not  be  by 
ridicule,  always  remembering  the  old  adage,  that  "  ridicule  is  not  the  test 
of  troth." 

"  Wit,  though  stinging,"  Sfc.—Page  139. 

"  Wit,  one  of  the  faculties  of  the  rational  soul,  genius,  fancy,  aptness 
for  any  thing,  cunningness."  French,  Esprit,  spirit.  Latin,  Solertia, 
among  other  senses,  craftiness,  subtlety,  policy,  cunning.  "  Judgment, 
the  discerning  faculty,  reason,  opinion,  prudence. 

"  Observe  all  objects."  #c.— Page  139. 

Synthesis— Greek— Sun,  con— together,  and  tethaimi — pono,  I  put,  or 
place.  Analysis,  Ana— re-rursus  vel  sursum,  again,  and  luo-solvo — I  dis 
solve.  Synthesis  is  putting  together,  and  Analysis,  taking  apart. 

"  Idlers  great  critics  are,"  Sfc. — Page  139. 

"  Idle  persons  are  those  who  neither  live  to  God,  to  man,  nor  t»  them 
selves."  First,  they  answer  not  the  end  for  which  they  were  brought  in 
to  being;  secondly,  they  benefit  not  their  fellow  creatures  around  them ; 
thirdly,  they  have  no  true  pleasure,  for  he  that  knows  not  how  to  labor, 
knows  not  how  to  enjoy.  In  fine,  the  idle  mac  is  in  every  view  both 
foolish  and  criminal ;  for  having  ence  tainted  the  soul,  it  leaves  no  part 
of  it  sound  ;  and  at  the  same  time  gives  not  those  alarms  to  conscience, 
which  the  eruption  of  bolder  and  fiercer  emotions  often  occasion.  "Their 
pretensions  to  criticism,  doubtless  originate  in  envy ;  the  labors  of  oth 
ers  being  a  reproof  to  their  own  indolence.  The  old  adage,  however,, 
directs  to  "let  envy  alone  and  it  will  punish  itself."  "  Envy  is  uneasiness 
at  the  success  of  another." 

"  The  human  heart,"  ^c.— Page  140. 

Depravity  is  defined  to  be  corruption,  a  change  from  perfection  to 
imperfection.  ••  The  heart  of  man,"  says  the  Divine,  is  naturally,  con 
stantly,  universally,  inexpressibly,  openly,  and  evidently  depraved,  aad 
inclined  to  evil,"  Jer.  xyii.  9.  It  requires  a  divine  power  to  renovate 
it,  and  render  it  susceptible  of  right  impressions,  Jer.  ixiv.  7.  When 
thus  renovated  the  effects  will  be  seen  in  the  temper,  conversation  and 
conduct  at  large. 

Hardness  of  heart  is  that  state  in  which  a  sinner  is  inclined  to,  and  ac 
tually  goes  on  in  rebellion  against  God.  The  work  of  sanctification  sets 
the  heart  right  by  giving  it  a  new  bent  and  inclination. 


NOTES  ON  THE  ANALECTA.  2tl 

"  While  man  regards  the  outward  show ,"  &c. — Page  140. 

"  Motive  is  that  which  moves,  excites  or  invites  the  mind  to  action. 
It  may  be  one  thing  singly,  or  many  things  conjointly.  Some  call  it  a 
faculty  of  the  soul  by  which  we  pursue  good  and  avoid  evil."  "  Action 
is  an  act,  deed  or  feat."  If  the  motives  are  so  far  right  as  to  produce 
right  actions,  they  constitute  a  person  righteous :  for  says  an  Apostle, 
(John,)  "  He  that  doeth  righteousness  is  righteous,'-  &c. 

"  If  betting  nothing,"  Sfc. — Page  141. 

"  Betting  is  to  lay  wagers."  Wagers,  a  mutual  stipulation  between  two 
persons  to  forfeit  or  pay  a  sum  of  money,  &c..,  on  condition  a  thing  in 
dispute  be  or  be  not  asserted  or  effected.  Though  all  who  bet,  or  lay  wa 
gers,  areinot  professed  gamesters;  yet,  in  so  doing,  they  imitate  the  prac 
tice  of  aleatores  or  dice-players,  gamesters,  gamblers,  blacklegs,  &c.  Be 
sides  it  is  not  the  bet  or  wager  that  decides  the  effect,  but  the  effect  the 
wager,  and  therefore,  betting  or  wagering  may  with  propriety  be  de 
nominated  gambling,  and  who  covets  the  appellation  of  a  gambler  ? 

"  Fiat  Justitia,"  Sfc.— Page  141. 
"Justice  is  equity,  reasonableness,  right,  law." 

"  Vox  et  PrcEterea  Nihil,"  Sfc. — Page  141. 

Perhaps  the  author  of  this  motto,  "  had  in  his  eye"  some  one  who 
was  in  the  habit  of  making  large  promises  and  performing  none  of  them. 
If  so,  the  old  adage  may  well  apply  to  him  : 

"A  man  of  words  and  not  of  deeds, 
Is  like  a  garden  full  of  weeds." 

"Forthee,  New-York,"  gfc.— Page  142. 

Early  in  the  month  of  May,  1812,  I  moved  with  my  family  to  Herki- 
mer,  on  the  ridge,  where  I  took  charge  of  the  Village  Academy,  and 
taught  for  one  quarter ;  but  the  war  breaking  out  in  June  following, 
it  broke  up  my  school.  The  next  year  I  came  to  Albany,  where  I  re 
mained  in  the  employ  of  his  Excellency,  the  Governor,  until  the  peace 
of  1815.  This  distich  shows  the  strong  desire  I  felt  to  return  to  the  place 
where  I  had  spent  so  many  previous  years  of  my  life. 

"  When  at  my  book,"  Sfc. — Page  142. 

Every  body  is  so  well  apprised  that  this  arises  from  some  imperfection 
or  derangement  of  the  wick,  that  it  needs  no  explanation.  The  only 
mystery  to  be  solved  is,  how  the  forks  can  affect  the  candle  so  as  to 
remedy  the  evil  ?  The  reason  was  once  assigned  to  me  by  the  Rev. 
John  McNeise,  but  as  thirty  years  have  since  elapsed,  it  has  escaped  my 
memory.  , 

T* 


233  NOTES  ON  THE  ANALECTA. 

"  Fie  on  the  Painter,"  &e.— Page  142. 

I  have  been  informed  that  the  French  portrait  painters  never  repre 
sent  their  subjects  as  calvi,  or  bald  headed,  and  that  if  they  are  so  really, 
they  always  have  the  generosity  to  make  them  a  present  of  a  wig. 

"  The  Christian's  hope,"  fc. — Page  142. 

To  hope,  ia  to  expect  with  desire ;  hope  is  expectation,  trust,  affiance. 
"The  Gospeelrevlation,"saysMr.  Baxter,  "is  the  clear  revelation  of  our 
hope."  He  adds,  "  that  the  Spirit  is  given  to  all  true  believers  is  evident 
by  its  effects ;  and  that  they  live  upon  the  hopes  of  a  better  life,  and  their 
heavenly  interest  overrules  the  opposite  interest  of  this  world.  In  or 
der  to  which  they  live  under  the  conduct  of  Divine  authority,  and  to 
obey  and  please  God,  is  the  great  business  of  their  lives,"  &c. 

"  Our  children  when  young,"  fa. — Page  143. 

It  is  not  impossible  but  that  the  old  man  might  have  spoken  from  sad 
experience.  He  might  have  brought  up  children,  who  at  riper  years 
might  have  disappointed  his  fondest  expectations.  And  though  this 
ware  not  his  own  individual  case,  still  he  might  have  uttered  this  pathetic 
exclamation  in  view  of  the  conduct  of  the  children  of  his  neighbors,  his 
acquaintances,  his  friends,  or  his  relations. 

It  is  a  commanded  duty  to  bring  up  our  children  in  the  nurture  and 
admonition  of  the  Lord,  Eph.  6th  chapter  and  4th  verse,  yet  how  often 
do  they  frustrate  our  best  endeavors,  by  rejecting  our  counsels,  and 
following  the  evil  advice  of  strangers.  Now  the  Scripture  informs  ua 
that  "evil  communication  corrupts  good  manners,1' and  the  communi 
cation  is  calculated  to  produce  not  only  a  partial  but  a  general  corrup 
tion  ;  so  that  it  may  be  pronounced  of  those  noble  powers  and  faculties 
of  soul  and  body  which  were  bestowed  for  nobler  purposes,  that  they  are 
at  length,  "  all  sacrificed  at  the  shrine  of  low  sensuality." 

And  along  with  "  bad  company,  comes  almost  certainly  the  evil  of  in 
toxication." 

I  asked  the  Chaplain  of  the  Islands  in  our  Bay,  not  long  since,  a  Scotch 
man,  a  plain  blunt  man,  what  he  discovered  to  be  the  prevailing  cauie 
of  the  enlistment  of  so  many  young  men  in  our  army.  His  answer  was 
41  Rum  and  bad  company."  Evidently  including  by  his  remark  under 
the  general  head  of"  Rum"  all  liquors  which  produce  drunkenness. 

"  Drunkenness  is  defined  to  be  intoxication  with  strong  liquor.  It  is 
either  actual  or  habitual,  just  as  it  is  one  thing  to  be  drunk,  and  anoth 
er  to  be  a  drunkard.  The  evil  of  drunkenness  appears  in  the  following 
bad  effects.  1st,  it  betrays  most  constitutions  either  to  extravagance  of 
anger,  or  sins  of  lewdness ;  2d,  it  disqualifies  men  for  the  active  duties 
of  their  station,  both  by  the  temporary  disorder  of  their  faculties,  and  at 
length  by  a  constant  incapacity  and  stupefaction  ;  3d,  it  is  attended  with 
expense  which  can  often  be  ill  spared  ;  4th,  it  is  sure  to  occasion  nnea- 
•iness  in  the  family  of  the  drunkard  ;  5th,  it  shortens  life  ;  6th,  it  is  a  most 
awful  example  to  others ;  7th,  it  is  hardly  ever  cured  ;  8th  it  is  a  viola 
tion  of  God's  word ;  Prov.  xx.  1,  Ephs.  v.  18,  Rom.  xiii.  13. 


NOTES  ON  THE  LIFE  OF  &c.  523 

"  The  appetite  for  liquor,  appears  to  me,"  says  Paley,  "  to  be  almost 
always  acquired.  One  proof  of  which  is  that  it  is  apt  to  return  only  at 
particular  times  and  places,  as  after  dinner,  in  the  evening,  on  the  mar 
ket  day,  in  such  a  company,  in  such  a  tavern."  "  How  careful  then  should 
we  be,  lest  we  form  habits  of  this  kind,  or  choose  company  who  are  ad 
dicted  to  it ;  how  cautious  and  circumspect  should  we  act,  that  we  be  not 
found  guilty  of  a  sin  which  degrades  human  nature,  banishes  reason,  in 
sults  God,  and  exposes  us  to  the  greatest  evils." — Buck's  Theological  Z)i«- 
tionary ;  and  I  may  add,  9th,  it  persecutes  the  Church  itself,  for 

Where'er  a  mansion  for  the  Lord  is  built. 

Wherein  to  show  poor  fallen  man  his  guilt; 

There  Satan  rears  an  edifice  of  sin, 

And  on  the  sign  behold,  "  Rum  sold  within  ;" 

No  more,  O  Rum,  shall  war  his  claim  maintain, 

He  boasts  his  thousands,  thou  hast  millions  slain." — Kel. 

"Here's  Uncle  Sam,1'  Sfc.— Page  143. 

I  hope  our  Country  may  always  enjoy  that  liberty  which  is  without 
licentiousness,  and  that  the  sappers  and  miners  of  tyranny  and  oppres 
sion  may  always  be  frustrated  in  their  designs  to  make  inroads  into  its 
present  healthy  Constitution. 


NOTES  ON  THE  AUTHOR'S  LIFE. 

When  I  commenced  writing  the  brief  history  of  my  life,  I  had  no  inten 
tion  of  finishing  it  with  notes.  But  a  certain  friend  of  mine  to  whom  I 
submitted  it  for  perusal,  pronounced  it  to  be  a  "meager  production." 
I  attempted  to  obviate  this  judgment  passed  on  my  history,  on  the  ground 
of  expediency.  He  tacitly  acquiesced.  But  his  decision,  unretracted,  has 
pursued  me  ever  since  like  Banco's  ghost,  and  induced  me  to  explain  some 
occurrences  which  took  place  during  my  life  that  otherwise  would  have 
been  forgotten  by  some,  and  perhaps  never  known  to  others  of  my  numer 
ous  subscribers. 

But  before  I  proceed  to  execute  my  present  intention  I  would  be  allowed 
to  make  this  preliminary  or  general  observation  on  the  whole  of  my  life, 
viz.  that  it  has  been  an  almost  continued  succession  of  prosperity  or  adver 
sity,  of  elevation  or  depression. 

I  do  not  offer  this  as  any  new  or  wonderful  discovery  of  my  own,  by 
which  mankind  are  to  be  unusally  illuminated,  I  would  merely  be  under 
stood  as  thereby  suggesting  the  importance  of  taking  this  observation  into 
consideration  in  forming  our  estimate  of  any  particular  character  or  even  of 
our  own.  You  have  decided  perhaps  that  he  should  have  acted  otherwise, 
and  why  1  because  he  knew  better  :  granted  ;  but  had  you  at  the  same  time 
the  candor  to  take  circumstances  into  the  account,  or  did  you  forget  that  old 
!'  child  of  experience,"  which  assures  us  that  "  circumstances  alter  cases  1" 


224  NOTES  ON  THE  LIFE  OF  &c. 

Doubtless,  if  we  were  thus  careful  we  should  avoid  giving  any  rash  or 
uncharitable  judgment  against  our  fellow  men,  and  commit  our  intended 
judgments  to  the  decision  of  Him  who  "judgeth  righteous  judgment.'1 

But  1  will  not  insist  further  on  this  point;  the  perusal  of  my  life, 
meager  as  it  may  be,  will  I  am  persuaded  abundantly  satisfy  every  read 
er  of  the  correctness  of  my  preliminary  observations. 

The  first  circumstance  I  would  explain,  which  otherwise  might  ap 
pear  obscure  in  my  life,  is  the  motive  that  induced  my  uncle  to  take  me 
from  College  and  to  remove  to  New-Jersey.  It  waschagrin,  i.  e.  vexation 
&c.  or  that  he  was  out  of  humor.  Yes,  he  was  wonderfully  vexed  at 
and  out  of  humor  with  the  conduct  of  a  certain  individual,  who  de 
frauded  him  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  by  feigning  to  be  crazy,  and  so  I, 
innocent,  unoffending  I,  was  defrauded  of  eighteen  months  of  continu 
ous  Collegiate  instruction  in  the  class  to  which  I  originally  belonged. 
To  be  more  explicit,  somewhere  in  or  about  the  year  1792  the  citizens 
of  New-York  were  seized  with  the  mania  for  speculating  in  the  rights 
of  Revolutionary  soldiers,  which  rights  were,  I  think,  denominated 
"  Scrip,"  the  precise  meaning  of  which  I  am  not  Speculator  enough  to 
define,  Bailey  calls  it  a  budget,  or  bag  ;  a  little  piece,  perhaps  an  abbre 
viation  of  scriptura,  a  writing. 

Well,  such  bargains,  sales,  and  transfers  were  made  at  the  Tontine  Cof 
fee  house,  in  Wall-street,  and  so  many  I.  O.  U's  were  bandied  about, 
that  hundreds  of  persons  who  were  poor,  say  to  day,  were  rich  to-mor 
row,  and  so  vice  versa.  My  uncle  too  must  needs  dabble'in  these  ;  al 
luring,  bewitching,  and  enriching  "Scrips;"  for  a  while  he  succeeded, 
but  at  length  a  certain  dealer  in  the  said  precious  article  (since  dead,  and 
gone  to  his  reward)  failed  in  the  performance  of  his  contract  with  my 
uncle,  being  advised,  as  was  said  at  the  time,  by  his  physicians  to  feign 
himself  crazy,  by  which  manoeuver  my  uncle  lost  a  considerable  sum  of 
money,  the  precise  amount  of  which  I  never  knew  to  a  certainty.  His 
eyes  being  thus  opened  to  the  iniquity  practised  by  the  "  Scrip  jobbers" 
of  the  day,  in  disgust  he  quitted  New-York,  and  returned  to  his  native 
place  New-Jersey,  for  a  season,  and  there  remained  until  the  Scrip 
mania  had  subsided,  when  he  returned  to  New- York,  and  applied  him 
self  to  a  regnlar,|sober,  honest  business,  the  business  of  buying  and  sell 
ing  salt,  in  Front-street,  near'Coenties-slip.  Should  any  of  my  young 
readers  be  anxious  to  be  further  informed  on  the  subject  of  the  famous 
"  Scrip  speculation,"  there  are  old  men  enough  now  living  in  New-York 
from  whom  they  can  obtain  far  more  accurate  information  than  can  be 
furnished  them'bythe  Author.  This  information,  so  obtained,  may  be  ac 
companied  with  many  highly  interesting  and  instructive  biographical  an 
ecdotes  of  the  principal  actors  in  that  nefariously  conducted  scheme,  for 
making  fortunes  out  of  the  hard  earnings  of  the  war-worn  veteran,  Ameri 
can  Revolutionary  soldier.  Certainly  there  is  a  curse  on  all  ill  gotten  gains. 
When  I  pass  by  a  certain  elegant  house  in  Broad-street,  I  am  forcibly 
reminded  of  this  truth,  when  I  remember  the  materials  out  of  which  it 
was  constructed  ;  and  how  shortly  thereafter  it  passed  out  of  the  posses 
sion  of  its  original  scrip-jobbing  owner.  And  when  1  meet  a  certain 
scrip-dealing  individual,  with  whom  I  was  acquainted  from  the  time 
of  his  importation  into  this  city,  and  consider  the  manner  in  which 
he  obtained  his  wealth,  I  envy  him  not  his  riches,  neither  would  I  ex 
change  situations  with  him,  on  the  condition  of  bearing  about  with  me 


NOTES  ON  THE  LIFE  OF  &c.  225 

the  opprobrious  epithet  which  he  will  carry  with  him  to  his  grave,  for  all 
the  taxable  property  in  the  city  of  New-York. 

The  second  circumstance  in  my  life,  to  which  I  would  advert,  is  that 
of  the  most  serious  and  dangerous  sickness  I  ever  experienced.  For 
want  of  a  better  name,  it  was  called  the  "  Dock  fever."  No  one  at  first 
was  acquainted  with  its  origin;  and  its  proper  mode  of  treatment  was  un 
known  to  the  physicians.  I  cannot  describe  its  symptoms  with  the  ac 
curacy  of  a  physician  ;  but  I  can  give  some  account  of  the  disposition  of 
both  my  body  and  my  mind,  occasioned  by  the  disease.  I  arose  early 
in  the  morning  and  dressed  myself,  and  was  going  down  stairs,  when  I 
felt  a  certain  languor  oppressing  my  system,  which  I  concluded  arose 
from  a  want  of  more  sleep.  I  accordingly  threw  myself  on  my  bed,  in 
my  clothes,  intending  to  take  a  nap,  but  a  certain  unaccountable  rest 
lessness  prevented  my  intention.  Besides,  the  charge  of  opening  the 
store  in  the  morning  devolved  on  me,  and  my  uncle's  partner  was 
a  very  early  riser.  I  determined  to  attend  to  my  duty.  I  had  not 
however  advanced  further  than  the  landing  place,  on  the  stairs,  when 
I  fell,  and  the  noise  of  my  fall  awoke  my  uncle,  who  slept  in  the 
room  below.  He  came  up  the  stairs,  and  turning  me  over,  inquired 
what  was  the  matter  with  me?  I  told  him  I  did  not  know.  Said  he, 
"you  have  got  the  yellow  fever,  and  must  go  to  your  bed."  He  helped 
me  to  my  bed,  and  sent  for  his  family  physician,  Doctor  John  Rodgers, 
who  bled  me,  and  shortly  afterwards  I  became  delirious,  and  did  not  re 
gain  my  reason  until  the  next  day,  after  which  I  gradually  recovered, 
and  in  seven  days  was  pronounced  to  be  out  of  danger,  and  walked  from 
No.  37  Stone-street  to  the  Battery,  and  back  again.  About  this  time, 
or  shortly  afterwards,  it  was  discovered  that  the  disease  was  an  imported 
one,  and  had  been  brought  from  Africa,  via  the  Havana,  in  a  slave  ship. 
That  after  the  slaves  were  landed  there,  she  was  laden  with  a  car 
go  of  Coffee,  the  half  of  which  was  in  a  perishing  state,  and  that  she  was 
then  lying  at  Beekman-slip,  now  Fulton-slip,  wharf.  And  that  all  that 
part  of  the  City  had  beeome  infected  with  what  was  doubtless  a  black  Af 
rican  fever  or  plague.  The  prevailing  character  of  this  fever  or  plague, 
judging  from  its  effect  on  myself,  was  the  violence  of  its  attack,  and  the 
rapidity  of  its  progress  towards  dissolution.  An  intense  pain  appeared 
to  rage  throughout  my  frame,  and  particularly  in  my  forehead ;  but  when 
the  Doctor  inquired  of  me  the  next  day,  how  I  felt,  I  told  him  that 
every  limb  had  suffered  excruciating  pain,  but  that  the  pain  in  my  fore 
head  had  changed  to  the  back  of  my  head,  and  that  I  felt  much  better ; 
he  then  began  to  entertain  hopes  of  my  recovery  ;  and  he  was  not  dis 
appointed.  Providence  had  not  limited  my  stay  on  earth  to  the  short 
space  of  one  score  of  years.  Its  rapidity  of  progress  towards  dissolution 
in  those  whom  it  attacked,  was  such,  so  I  was  informed,  as  to  render  their 
death  inevitable,  unless  it  took  a  favorable  turn  within  eight  and  forty 
hours.  My  recollection  does  not  serve  me  to  give  the  precise  date  of 
the  existence  of  this  fever  or  plague,  nor  could  all  my  inquiries  from 
several  Doctors  and  others,  and  even  from  the  brother  of  one  of  its  vic 
tims,  enable  me  to  state  unequivocally  the  identical  year  in  which  it  raged 
at  Beekmau-slip.  I  think,  however,  it  must  have  been  somewhere 
about  the  year  1798,  or  '9;  of  this  much,  however,  I  am  certain,  that  it 
was  the  year  in  which  two  of  my  classmates  at  College,  Effingham  War 
ner,  and  Robert  Ray  Rerasen,  (the  brother  of  Henry  Remscn,  Esq.,)  died 


226  NOTES  ON  THE  LIFE  OF  &c. 

of  that  same  fever,  and  I  think  it  also  carried  off  General  Malcolm.  I  re 
member  seeing  the  barrels  of  tar  inlhe  slip,  which  the  Corporation  had 
ordered  to  be  burned  to  disinfect  the  atmosphere  in  that  vicinity.  The 
ship  was  ordered  away,  and  the  fever  or  plague  ceased. 

The  next  circumstance  I  think  worth  explaining,  is  the  reason  of  my 
Uncle's  affairs  being  so  embarrassed  that  he  could  not  assist  me,  while 
in  partnership  with  Major  Samuel  Cooper,  in  the  Grocery  business,  at 
Coenties-slip.  The  reason  of  this,  was  his  allowing  himself  to  be  per 
suaded  to  endorse  and  bond  for  unprincipled  men ;  I  could  enumerate 
several,  but  the  most  of  them  are  dead,  and  I  will  not  pollute  my  book 
by  an  insertion  of  their  names. 

A  certain  man  now  living  in  New-York,  who  knew  better  than  my 
self  in  what  my  uncle's  property  consisted,  assured  me  some  time  since, 
that  if  he  had  kept  his  property,  it  would  then  have  been  worth  $200,000. 
I  say  nothing  of  the  man  who  betrayed  him  to  bond  for  him  to  an  amount 
that  ruined  him  and  all  his  nephew's  earthly  expectations.  Well,  let  it  go, 
"there  is  really,  (as  a  certain  friend  of  mine,  since  dead,  once  remarked 
to  me,)  "  no  use  in  crying  for  spilled  milk." 

Though  I  have  lived  both  in  Albany  and  in  Herkimer,  yet  they  by  the 
present  expeditious  mode  of  travelling  are  brought  so  nigh  to  New- York, 
that  I  think  it  unnecessary  to  consume  the  time  and  patience  of  the  read 
er,  by  giving  any  graphical  description  of  those  well  known  places.  But 
I  cannot  think  of  closing  these  Notes  without  saying  something  of  the 
pleasant  Village  of  May  ville,  in  the  County  of  Chautauque,  and  its  beau 
tiful  little  twenty-mile  lake. 

Perhaps,  however,  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  premise  that  "  Chau 
tauque  County,  the  westernmost  part  of  the  "Holland  Land  Company's 
purchase  in  the  State  of  New- York,"  is  bounded  on  the  North  by  Lake 
Erie,  whose  waters  wash  it  on  its  whole  extent,  on  its  Northern  line,  and 
separate  it  from  the  province  of  Upper  Canada.  Its  length  from  East 
to  West,  commencing  at  Cataraugus  Creek,  which  divides  it  from  the 
County  of  Erie,  formerly  a  component  part  of  Niagara  is  nearly  fifty 
miles  following  the  meandering*  of  the  Lake,  and  its  medium  breadth 
from  North  to  South  is  forty  miles. 

Deriving  its  sources  from  nearly  the  centre  of  the  County,  lies  Chau 
tauque  Lake,  a  quiet  little  sheet  of  water,  delightfully  embosomed  in  a 
charming  forest,  on  which  the  patient  hand  of  c  ul  ti  ratio  n  has  already  made 
considerable  inroads. 

"  This  Lake  on  ordinary  occasions,  resembles  in  transparency  the  mir 
ror  in  which  beauty  views  itself,  reflected  with  tenfoid  lustre,  and  it  is  sel 
dom  lashed  into  foam  by  the  contending  elements.  It  is  twenty  miles 
in  length,  and  on  an  average,  its  breadth  is  from  two  to  two  and  a  half 
miles.  It  discharges  its  waters  southwardly,  and  uniting  with  a  consid 
erable  stream,  called  the  Connewongo  Creek,  forms  one  of  the  princi 
pal  tributary  waters  of  the  Allegany  river.  The  wild  ducks  visit  the 
Lake  in  swarms  during  the  Spring  season  ;  and  it  abounds  in  fishe  of 
excellent  quality,  as  the  Bass,  the  Pike,  the  Pickerel,  and  the  Sunfish. 

The  small,  but  pleasant  Village  of  May  ville,  is  situated  at  the  head  of 
the  Lake,  extending  northward  about  a  mile,  along  a  street  ninety-nine 
feet  in  breadth  ;  intersected  at  certain  distances  by  what  is  called  slash 
roads,  leading  to  different  parts  of  the  County.  The  public  buildings  in 
1830,  were  the  Court  House  and  Jail,  and  the  County  Clerk's  office. 


NOTES  ON  THE  LIFE  OF  &e.  827 

Near  to  these  was  the  Land  Office,  and  nearer  the  Lake,  the  Episcopal 
Church.  I  do  not  recollect  the  number  of  inhabitants,  probably  two 
hundred.  But  the  greatest  curiosity  about  M ay ville  is,  in  my  mind,  that 
it  not  only  presents  the  amazing  declivity  of  seven  hundred  feet  in  ten 
miles  of  length,  but  that  those  ten  miles,  form  what,  I  think,  maybe  term 
ed  the  third  most  important  Isthmus  of  the  World.  That  of  Suez  prevents 
the  junction  of  the  Mediterranean  and  Red  Seas.  That  of  Darien,  the 
Atlantic  and  Pacific,  and  this  of  Chautauque  all  the  largest  Lakes  of  out 
Country,  with  all  the  Seas  and  Oceans  of  our  world.  For  the  out 
let  of  Chautauque  Lake  falls  into  the  Connowongo  Creek,  these  two  run 
into  the  Allegany,  the  Allegany  and  Monongahela  into  the  Ohio,  th« 
Ohio  into  the  Mississippi,  and  the  Mississippi  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 

As  to  either  the  possibility  or  probability  of  connecting  the  Lakes 
Chautauque  and  Erie  by  means  of  a  Canal,  I  affirm  nothing,  neither  do 
I  offer  the  above  information  as  a  discovery  of  my  own,  but  merely  ob 
serve  that  the  information  was  afforded  me  by  certain  individuals  during 
my  stay  at  the  Village  of  May  ville,  the  Latitude  of  which  place  is  stated 
as  42  deg.  18  min. 

I  will  only  add  one  more  curiosity,  or  rather  peculiarity  of  a  western 
winter,  which  I  witnessed  while  at  Mayville,  and  that  is  the  long  contin 
ued  snow  in  the  winter'of  1830.  What  would  a  New-Yorker  think  ifthe 
City  should  be  visited  with  a  snow  storm  of  18  successive  days ;  and  that 
too  not  on  a  dry  but  a  wet  bottom,  and  that  it  should  last  for  nearly  four 
months  ?  The  depth  of  the  snow  that  fell  that  winter,  commencing  in 
the  month  of  January,  was  estimated  to  average  at  least  three  feet,  through- 
oat  the  County,  and  some  of  it  remained  on  the  ground  when  I  left  for 
New-York,  in  the  latter  end  of  the  month  of  April.  I  would  merely  ob 
serve  in  conclusion,  that  on  my  inquiring  the  meaning  of  the  Indian  word 
Chautauque,  I  was  informed  that  it  signified  saddle-bags  in  our  language, 

VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS. 

And  now,  kind  reader,  we  bid  you  adieu, 

In  the  hope  you  have  read  our  book  quite  through; 

If  you  on  instruction  are  really  bent, 

We  trust  your  time  has  not  been  misspent. 

If  from  our  work  you  this  have  obtained, 

Our  labor's  repaid,  our  object  is  gained. 


SYNOPSIS 


DOCTOR   SAMUEL   JOHNSON, 


Appendix  to  an  English  and  Hebrew  Grammar;  being  a  Synopsis  of  all 
the  parts  of  Learning;  or  a  general  scheme  for  a  division  of  the  sci 
ences,  according  to  the  natural  order  of  things.  By  Samuel  John 
son,  D.  D.,  Late  President  of  King's,  now  Columbia,  College,  in 
New- York,  &c.  London,  printed  for,  &c.,  1771. 

As  Grammar  is  the  introduction  to  the  other  parts  of  Learning,  it  may 
be  of  some  use  to  set  down  the  entire  prospect  of  the  whole  in  one  short 
view,  that  young  beginners  may  the  better  understand  what  it  is  they 
are  about  to  undertake  in  the  course  of  their  education. 

Learning,  which  the  Greeks  called  Cyclopaedia,  implies  the  know 
ledge  of  every  thing  both  speculative  and  practical,  that  is  conducive  to 
our  true  happiness,  both  present  and  future.  So  that  the  great  end  pur 
sued  through  the  whole,  is,  our  happiness;  and  the  means  to  that  end 
are  knowledge  and  practice.  Science  is  the  knowledge  of  Truth  con 
sidered  speculatively ;  and  Art  is  the  knowledge  of  Truth  considered  as 
directive  of  practice  in  order  to  our  true  good  and  happiness. 

Now,  all  the  parts  of  learning,  both  the  Sciences  and  Arts,  mayfbe  re 
duced  to  these  two  heads,  Philology  and  Philosophy,  Words  and  Things. 

I.  Philology  is  the  study  of  words  or  language,  as  a  means  in  order 
the  better  to  understand  the  nature  of  things.  It  is  also  called  Belles 
Lettres ;  and  this  is  either  general  or  special. 

1.  General  Philology  is  common  to  all  kinds  of  speaking,  and  is 

1.  Grammar,  which  is  the  art  of  clearly  and  properly  expressing  the 
sense  of  our  minds  in  words  and  sentences,  either  by  speaking  or  wri 
ting,  and 

2.  Rhetoric,  which  is  the  art  of  embellishing  our  language  with  the 
most  striking  and  beautiful  expressions,  the  Tropes  and  Figures. 


230  SYNOPSIS. 

II.  Special  Philology  treats  of  what  is  peculiar  to  several  kinds  of  speak 
ing  and  writing,  as 

1.  Oratory,  which  is  the  art  of  true  Eloquence,  or  of  writing  or  speak 
ing  in  the  most  persuasive  manner,  by  inventing  on  every  subject,  all 
the  proper  arguments  of  persuasion,  and  disposing  them  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage,  and  in  uttering  and  delivering  our  composition  or  speech  in  the 
most  striking  and  graceful  manner. 

2.  History,  which  is  the  art  of  making  clear  and  exact  narration  of 
true  matters  of  fact,  with  the  circumstances  of  time  and  placo,  for  the 
instruction  and  benefit  of  posterity.     And, 

3.  Poetry,  which  is  the  art  of  making  a  just  and  lively  description  of 
persons  or  things  either  real  or  imaginary,  with  an  elevation  and  dig 
nity  of  thought,  and  the  advantage  of  numbers  and  harmony,  and  every 
ornament  language  is  capable  of,  for  conveying  the  most  useful  instruc 
tion,  attended  with  the  utmost  delight;  and,  lastly,  relating  fo  all  these 
is  the  art  Criticism,  which  teaches  the  true  force  of  words  and  phrases, 
the  nature  of  style  and  a  true  taste,  so  as  to  make  a  right  judgment  of 
the  real  beauties  and  excellencies  of  any  performance,  and  to  distin 
guish  between  what  is  genuine  and  what  is  counterfeit. 

II.  Philosophy  is  the  study  of  Truth  and  Wisdom  ;  or  the  knowledge 
of  things,  as  being  what  they  really  are,  together  with  a  right  conduct 
correspondent  thereunto,  in  the  pursuit  of  true  happiness,  both  here 
and  hereafter. 

Now,  all  the  things  or  Icings  about  which  our  studies  in  pursuit  of 
Truth  and  Wisdom  can  be  employed  are  either  Bodies  or  Spirits,  i.  e. 
things  sensible  or  intellectual,  which  constitute  the  whole  Universe. — 
The  World  of  Bodies  and  the  World  of  Spirits,  or  the  Natural  or  Mor 
al  World. — Hence  Philosophy  necessarily  divides  itself  into  those  two 
great  branches,  Physics  and  Metaphysics,  taking  these  words  in  a  sense 
somewhat  larger  than  usual. — Understanding  by  Physics  the  study  of 
the  things  of  nature  and  sense,  and  what  relates  to  them :  and  by  Meta 
physics,  the  study  of  things  that  are  above  and  beyond  the  sensible  na 
ture,  or  mere  passive  objects  of  sense  ;  to  wit,  spiritual  or  intelligent, 
free  active  beings,  or  moral  agents,  and  what  relates  to  them.  The  first 
is,  therefore,  properly  called  Natural  Philosophy,  and  the  second  may 
be  called  Moral  Philosophy. 

I.  Natural  Philosophy  then  is  the  study  of  the  nature  of  every  thing 
in  this  natural  or  sensible  world :  this  world  of  bodies  and  what  relates 
to  them,  and  to  the  comfort  and  benefit  of  our  life  in  this  present  state. 
And  it  is, 

1,  General  in  the  mathematics  which  teach  the  knowledge  of  the  com- 


SYNOPSIS.  231 

moil  affections  of  bodies,  number  and  magnitude,  which  are  necessary 
praecognita  to  the  study  of  the  following  parts;  hence, 

1.  Arithmetic,  which  is  the  art  of  numbering;  to  which  belongs  Alge 
bra. 

2.  Geometry,  which  is  the  art  of  measuring,  to  which  belongs  Trigo 
nometry,  Surveying,  Gauging,  and  the  doctrine  of  the  Sphere  and  Cy 
linder,  and  of  Conic  Sections,  and  Fluxions. 

II.  Special,  of  all  the  particular  things  in  the  natural  world,  and  this 
contains  the  following  sciences  and  arts: 

1.  Mechanics,  which  explain  the  nature  and  qualities  of  bodies,  and 
the  forces  by  which  they  move,  and  demonstrate  the  various  laws  of  their 
motion.     Here  belong  Statics,  Pneumatics,  and  Hydraulics. 

2.  Physics  (strictly  so  called)  or  Geology,  in  which  we  contemplate 
this  Terraqueous  Globe,  and  its  atmosphere,  with  all  its  parts  and  fur 
niture,  both  inanimate  and  animate.     The  first  are  the  elements,  fire, 
air,  water  and  earth.     The  stones,  mines,  minerals  and  meteors:  the 
others  are  plants  and  animals,  and  particularly  the  wonderful  structure 
of  our  own  bodies. — Here,  therefore,  belong  Geography,  Navigation 
and  Commerce;  Agriculture,  Chemistry  and  Botany;  Optics  and  Mu 
sic  ;  Anatomy,  Surgery  and  Medicine,  and  every  thing  useful  in  life. 
And, 

3.  Astronomy,  in  which  from  the  Earth  we  launch  forth  into  the  vast 
immeasurable  Ether,  and  contemplate  the  Heavens  and  stars,  both  fixed 
and  erratic  ;  particularly  our  Sun  with  its  splendid  chorus  of  Planets  and 
Comets  ;  and  determine  their  orbits,  magnitudes  and  densities,  and  the 
'aws  of  their  motions,  in  the  tides  of  their  fluids,  and  their  diurnal  and 
annual  revolutions.    To  which  belong  Chronology  and  Dialling.    In  all 
these  parts  of  natural  philosophy  there  are  many  Arts  and  practical  Mat 
ters  ;  and  the  facts  in  all  nature  are  related  in  Natural  History. 

II.  Moral  Philosophy  is  the  study  of  the  Moral  World,  or  the  world  of 
intelligent,  free,  active  beings,  or  moral  Agents,  and  what  relates  to  them, 
in  the  pursuit  of  our  true  happiness,  both  here  and  forever  in  our  future 
state.  Here  then  we  ascend  from  the  sensible  and  natural,  to  the  intel 
ligent  and  moral  world,  from  the  world  of  bodies  to  the  world  of  spirits. 
And  this  is  either  speculative  or  practical;  the  first  relates  chiefly  to 
Truth,  and^may  be  (more  strictly)  called  metaphysics ;  the  second  relates 
chiefly  to  duty  or  manners,  and  in  a  large  sense,  may  be  called  Ethics. 

The  speculative  part  of  moral  philosophy  in  its  full  extent,  explains 
what  can  be  known  of  intelligent  active  beings,  and  here  the  first  is 

1st.  Logic,  which  explains  and  directs  the  powers  and  operation  of  the 
mind  and  understanding,  including  both  Ontology,  or  the  science  of_tlie 


232  SYNOPSIS. 

general  notion  of  Being,  with  its  various  affections,  as  applied  both  to 
body  and  spirit.  And  Dialectic  or  the  art  of  the  right  conduct  of  the  mind 
in  thinking  and  reasoning. 

N.  B.  Though  this  is  the  proper  place  of  Logic,  in  the  order  of  the 
sciences,  yet  it  is  necessary  to  teach  it  immediately  after  some  progress  in 
Philology,  in  order  to  our  forming  clear  and  just  conceptions  and  rea 
sonings  in  Philosophy. 

2d.  Pneumatology  is  the  Doctrine  of  Spirits  or  created  intelligences  ; 
and  here  we  begin  with  our  own  souls,  their  powers  and  operations,  both 
perceptive  and  active ;  and  thence  we  proceed  to  other  intelligences 
whether  good  or  bad  ;  and  by  analogy  we  gradually  arise  to  the  best  con 
ceptions  we  are  capable  of,  of  the  Deity,  the  Father,  Creator  and  Lord 
of  all,  in 

3d.  Theology,  which  is  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  his  Attributes,  op 
erations  and  dispensations  in  the  creation  and  government  of  the  world, 
with  regard  to  which,  and  our  duty,  we  are  obliged  to  depend  on  the 
Revelation  of  his  mind  and  will ;  which  he  hath  graciously  made  to  man 
kind. 

II.  The  practical  part  of  Moral  Philosophy  chiefly  relates  to  life  and 
conduct  in  our  several  capacities,  both  personal  and  social,  and  this  is 
what  is  more  strictly  called  Moral  Philosophy.  And  it  consists  of  three 
parts  ;  the  chief  of  which,  and  ground  of  the  rest  is, 

1.  Ethics,  strictly  so  called, ^which  is  the  right  conduct  of  our  temper 
and  behaviour  in  all  our  relations  towards  God  and  man,  both  to  our 
selves  and  others,  in  order  to  our  true  and  endless  happiness.  To  which 
succeed 

2.  Economics,  which  treat  of  the  right  conduct  of  families,  and  every* 
thing  that  relates  to  them.     And  lastly, 

3.  Politics,  which  treat  of  the  constitution  and  good  government  of 
Cities,  Kingdoms  and  Republics ;  and  as  good  policy  provides  for  the 
happiness  of  men  both  temporal  and  spiritual,  it  must  consist  of  two 
great  branches,  viz.  Civil  and  Ecclesiastical  polity.    And  the  facts  in 
the  moral  world  are  related  in  Biography,  aod  in  Civil  and  Ecclesiastical 
History. 


ERRATA. 


The  Author  is  satisfied  that  errors  will  be  detected  by  a  particu 
lar  description,  at  least,  of  his  Subscribers,  during  the  perusal  of  his 
work.  And  if  any  thing  need  be  urged  for  the  commission  of  such  er 
rors,  by  way  of  extenuation,  it  would  be  that  they  were  not  discovered 
until  after  the  sheets  had  gone  to  press. 

One  error,  however,  from  its  grossness,  he  feels  constrained  in  this  way 
to  correct;  it  will  be  discovered  in  the  note  at  the  foot  of  page  43,  viz. 
"  cere  perennium,"  to  make  which  right,  please  change  the  final  m  into  s, 
and  you  will  have  the  neuter  gender  of  the  comparative  degree  of  the 
word  perennis,  thus — ior-ior-us. 

Whatever  other  errors  may  be  found  to  exist,  either  in  the  English, 
Latin,  or  Greek,  throughout  the  book,  he  anticipatingly  commends  them 
to  the  clemency  of  the  reader  ;  assuring  him,  that  with  all  the  labor  and 
dilligence  he  has  bestowed  both  by  night  and  by  day,  on  the  Specimens, 
in  order  to  present  them  faultless;  he  has  nevertheless  found  it  next  to 
impossible  to  steer  clear  of  some  errors  in  a  first  impression,  and  this  he 
considers  is  mainly  to  be  attributed  to  the  circumstance  of  its  having  to 
pass  through  so  many  different  hands,  previously  to  its  receiving  its 
final  touch  from  those  of  the  pressman. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


SUBSCRIBER'S  NAMES. 


Anthon,  John 
Arcularius,  Peter  G- 
Anthony,  Jacob 
Angelis,  Gideon  De 
Arcularius,  Philip  J. 
Adams,  James 
Abel!,  Henry 
Asten,  Abraham 
Alice,  Daniel 
Allee,  Joseph  B. 
Arrowsmith,  Augustus  T. 
Arrowsmith,  M. 

Bovvne,  Walter 
Bogardus,  Robert 
Boganlus,  William  H. 
Burr,  Edward 
Btirlock,  HortonH. 
Bradhurst,  John  M. 
Burlin?,  Bernard  It. 
Buckley,  Thomas  T. 
Baxter,  Timothy 
Bowne,  John  R. 
Bruorton,  William 
Britten,  Henry  M. 
Brown,  W.  L. 
Barford,  S. 
Barkaloo,  H.  H. 
Beers,  Nathan  T. 
Burling,  Lancaster  S. 
Barberie,  S. 
Bruce,  William  H. 
Bailey,  John  F. 
Brady,  Thomas  S. 
Bevoise,  Garret  De 
Barker,  Smith 
Brooks,  Sidney  S. 
Brown,  M.  D.  Edward  V. 
Burnett,  Rev.  Wm, 
Brown,  Joshua  D. 


Crolius,  Clarkson 
Cowdrey,  Samuel 
Cochran,  M.  D.  Hugh  H- 
Carpenter,  J.  S. 
Cooper,  John  M. 
Cornwell,  Richard 
Cowdrey,  David  M. 
Covert,  Richard  D. 
Clark,  E.  W. 
Cox,  Henry  F. 
Cornwell,  Richard  H. 
Cox,  William 
Campbell,  James 
Conklin,  Joseph 
Coles,  Willet 
Coutant,  Gilbert 
Connor,  Charles 
Cumberton,  William 

Dean,  Nicholas 
De  Peyster,  George 
Degraw,  Walter 
Devvitt,  Peter 
Dodge,  Henry  S. 
Dodge,  W. 
De  Camp,  John 
Deuel,  Silas  J. 
Duryee,  JT>hn  T. 
Dodge,  Robert 
Duryea,  Tunis  H. 
De  Klyn,  Bernard 
Doughty,  John  S. 
Davis,  James  R. 
Dando,  Stephen 
Davis,  Ezra  P. 


Everit,  William 
Erben,  Henry 
Elsworth,  William 


236 


SUBSCRIBER'S  NAMES. 


Eben,  Jr.  Peter 
Elting,  William 

Frazier,  William 
Ferris,  Charles  G. 
Furman,  Gabriel 
Fisher,  Jr.  Leonard 
Fisher,  Henry 
Frasier,  Alfred  S. 
Frantzkee,  F.  W. 
Flanagan,  John  R. 
Fisher,  George 
Freeman,  Lorrain 
Fleming,  John  A. 
Fowler,  D.A. 
Forbes,  James 
Frink,  M.  D.  Cyrus 
Frasier,  Thomas 
Forbes,  David  A. 

Greenfield,  John  V. 
Gilford,  Jr.  Samuel 
Gale,  William 
Gilfilland,  M.  D.  George 
Garr,  Andrew  S. 
Gemmel,  James 
Gemmel,  John 
Gould,  Banks  &  Co. 
Gottsberger,  H.  H. 
Gould,  William 
Gould,  Anthony 

Harper  &  Brothers, 
Hoxie,  Joseph 
Hart,  John  J. 
Harned,  Wiliam  H. 
Hassler,  J.  J.  S. 
Herring,  Elbert 
Hinckley,  Charles  A. 
Haskett,  W.  J. 
Henry,  T.  S. 
Hope',  G.  T.  &  Co. 
Husson,  Joseph 
Hawkins,  Richard  G. 
Hunn,  T. 
Hicks,  Thomas 
Hillyer,  John 
Hall,  Frances 
Hagadorn,  J.  F. 
Hart,  M.  B. 


Hall,  George 

Ireland,  George 
limes,  George 

Janeway,  W.  W. 
Jackson,  Thomas 
Jackson,  Henry 
Jones,  David  S. 
Jones,  Hercules  H. 
Johnson,  Rev.  Evan  M. 
Johnson,  Samuel  E. 
Johnson,  Jeromus 
Johnson,  Oscar 

Keese,  John 
Keese,  J.  Lawrence 
Keese,  W.  Lynn 
Keith,  Minor  H. 
Kinsey,  John 

Lounds,  Oliver  M. 
Laight,  Edward  W. 
Lontrel,  Lewis 
Lefferts,  Leffert 
Lineback,  Charles  F. 
Livingston,  Liv. 
Lynch,  James 
Lozier,  John 
Lazarus,  E.  S. 
Lawrence,  W. 
Leveridge,  John  W.  C. 
Langley,  J.  &  H. 
Lynch,  George  H.  E. 
Livingston,  R.  D. 
Lent,  G.  W. 
Ledyard,  John 
Lawrence,  John  L. 
Lawrence,  Isaac 
Loines,  John 

Morris,  Robert  H. 
Morrell,  John  A. 
Mackay,  Hay  S. 
Mann,  Josiah 
Mitchell,  David  B. 
Monk,  Joseph 
Marschalk,  George  B. 
Meigga  Henry, 
Marichalk,  John 
Macfaflan,  Thomas 


SUBSCRIBER'S  NAMES. 


237 


McKeen,  James 
Mason,  Michael  P. 
Morse,  Nathan  B. 
Miller,  Sylvanus 
Milner,  J.  Picton 
Marselis,  Peter  T. 
Mclntosh,  R. 
Manley,  M.  D.  James  R. 
McCoun,  J.  W. 
Mulden,  James  M. 
McGowan,  James 
Merrill,  Elisha 
Myers,  M.  S. 
Meigs,  Henry 
Myers,  John 
Mortimer,  George 
Milpra,  William 
Mills,  Jr.  David  S. 
McClean,  John 

Noah,  M.  M. 
Nicoll,  Edward  A. 
Nack,  James 
Nagle,  Cornelius 

Olwell,  Matthew 
O'Brien,  S.  J. 

Phoenix,  Thomas 
Palmer,  M.  D.  Walter  C. 
Price,  John 
Paget,  Charles 
Pinckney,  Elijah  R. 
Phillips,  H. 
Pattison,  James  H. 
Pike  Otis 
Platt,  F.  A. 
Phillips,  Alfred  A. 
Piggot,  Joseph 

Quackenbush,  Jr.  James" 
Quackenbos,  Mangle  M. 
Quackenbos,  Nicholas  J. 

Riker,  John  L. 
Reynolds,  Micajah 
Richmond,  Warren 
Ryer,  Benjamin  F. 
Riley,  Joseph 
Riker,  John  C. 
Renolds,  James  G. 


Roy,  William  L. 
Ryder,  Alfred  M. 
Richardson,  Simon 
Remsen,  Henry 

Schieffelin,  Effingham 
Schieffelin,  Henry  H. 
Scheffelin,  R.  L. 
Sandford,  Charles  W. 
Strong,  Charles  A. 
Sewall,  William  E. 
Schureman,  Nicholas 
Stewart,  Alexander 
Stephens,  Alfred  G. 
Scovell,  Harris 
Sturges,  Samuel 
Shaler,  William 
Stemler,  John  A. 
Sackett,  Clarence  D. 
Stephens,  Augustus  C. 
Sherman,  James 
Sharp,  Richard 
Smith,  Edwin  E. 
Smith,  John 
Smith,  William 
Sidell.JohnA. 
Spooner,  Alden 
Smith,  W 
Sands,  William 
Swords,  Frances  D. 
Spinney,  Joseph 
Story,  Rufus 

Stanton,  P.  Van  Rensallaer, 
Smith,  S.  Alpheus 
Sprague,  Joseph 
Sherman,  Alpheus 
Stone,  William  L. 
Shotwell,  Samuel 
Sands,  Daniel  R. 
Shippey,  William 

Tompkins,  M.  D.,  N.  U. 
Thome,  Richard  V.  W. 
Tombs,  Andrew 
Tombs,  Andrew  J.  F. 
Timpson,  John 
Thomson,  Wm.  B. 
Trask,  W.  E. 
Trask,  E.  R. 
Triquet,  E.  G. 
Tenney,  P.  W. 


253 


SUBSCRIBER'S  NAMES. 


Thorne,  John 
Townseud,  John  K. 
Thorne,  M.  D.  John  S. 
Thorne,  Henry  W. 
Terry,  Samuel 
Thyson,  Henry 
Tillou,  G.  W. 
Tovvle,  J. 
TibbetS,  John  G. 

Van  Buren,  Martin 
Varian,  Isaac 
Vincent,  Edward 
Vosburgh,  Abraham 
Vultee,  Henry  V. 
Van  Pelt,  M.  D.  Abraham 
Van  Antwerp,  John  E. 
Van  Santvoort  &  Goddard, 
Van  Colt,  Albert  B. 
Van  Wyck,  Jr.  Stephen 
Van  Nice,  Stephen 
Van  Cleef,  Abraham 


Vanderpool,  A.  B. 

Whiting.  William 
Wilson,  Peter 
Wilson,  George 
Whiting,  Charles 
Woolsey,  John 
Wyne,  William 
Wanamaker,  H.  B. 
Woodward,  John 
Williamson,  Dow  D. 
Whitrnore,  Luther 
Wood,  James  L. 
Wood,  William  H. 
Willetts,  L.  S. 
Wilson,  William  H. 
Williamson,  Nicholas 
Wyckoff,  Richard  S. 
Waring,  Nathaniel  F. 
Welling,  William 
Wilson,  Harris 
Wilson,  M.  D.  Abraham  D. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below. 


REMINGTON  RAND  INC.  2O       213          (533) 


2826  Shippey  - 
Specimens 


23  7 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

AA    001224427  3 


PS 
2826 


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